


You're Going To Be So Happy

by sec982



Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Discussion of Abortion, F/M, Gen, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Panic Attacks, Post Mockingjay, Pre Epilogue, Self-Harm, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-18
Updated: 2015-05-18
Packaged: 2018-01-16 05:19:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 53
Words: 107,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1333519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sec982/pseuds/sec982
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peeta returns home from the bakery to find Katniss in bed unable to move or speak clearly. He quickly learns that this is more than just an episode, and is faced with making life altering decisions that concern them both without her help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One: Positive

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fanfiction I've written in close to five years, and it's my first one about the Hunger Games. I'm not sure how long this fanfiction will be. I have a lot of it already written though, so expect at least a few more chapters. I know the summary is vague but I didn't want to give too much away. Be sure to check the warnings for potential triggers or things you might find offensive. In this chapter specifically there is mention to suicide. 
> 
> DISCLAIMER: I do not own the Hunger Games.

Chapter One: Positive

The summer air flows softly through my blond hair, and I pause at the entrance to Victor’s Village. Looking out across the road, a rare feeling of peace flows through me and I am very thankful. I am thankful for how far we’ve come. Thinking back to how difficult the first months were after the war, I shudder. I had attacks every hour on the hour and Katniss was half dead, unable to care for herself or even move. It took close to a year, but we healed, at least enough to slowly come together. This time it is real. She was sure. She’d chosen me. We got married three years ago, and not because the Capitol made us, but because we wanted to. She loves me. I grin a little, and am silently thankful for everything, even Haymitch’s stupid geese.

I am coming home at the usual time and pause in the front entryway. I stoop down to take off my shoes, but I don’t hear sounds coming from the kitchen. Katniss isn’t cooking, not that I mind. I often cook dinner, if she had a hard day hunting. The late June breeze brushes through the open window as I head up the stairs to check on her. She probably drifted off or is taking a long shower. I enter our bedroom to find her curled up into a ball on her side of the bed. She is facing away from the door, but I see her irregular breathing pattern and I know she isn’t sleeping. My heart sinks a little. Things have gotten so much better, but every now and then… there is a moment.

Crossing the room I kneel down in front of her, next to the bed. She has her eyes squeezed tightly together and is biting her lower lip. Her breath is coming out in heaves. I push her hair back from her face and she winces away from my touch. I sharp pain goes through me, and I’m instantly confused. Never in our time together since the end of the war has she refused my touch.

“Can you sit up?” She doesn’t respond. She is too far-gone in pain that probably occurred years ago, unable to move. Her episodes have been decreasing in frequency, but when they come lately they have been bad. For all I know she can’t even hear me, doesn’t know I am here, and is instead imagining me as Prim or her father, cringing away from comfort she doesn’t think she deserves.

“I’m going to make dinner,” I begin softly, not wanting to touch her again. “I’ll be back with it soon.” I go down to the kitchen and begin to chop the vegetables hurriedly, tossing everything haphazardly into the pot. I strip some of the meat from the pig we roasted a few days before and toss it in. The water boiling, I quickly clean the kitchen, trying to piece together what happened. The game bag is tossed carelessly over the side of a chair, out of place from its usual spot in the cupboard. It’s empty though, suggesting trouble in the woods. I stoop to pick it up and hear the rustle of a plastic bag inside of it. Curious I open it to remove the source of the noise.

It is indeed a plastic bag. I recognize the label from the new pharmacy they built next to the hospital that opened after the war, but its contents have been removed. Not even a receipt left inside. I think maybe Katniss began to feel ill in the woods, a cold perhaps, and went to pick up some sleep syrup. The medicine has made her delirious in the past, worsening her nightmares causing one of her episodes. It’s possible she took too much and can’t shake herself out of the stupor.

The timer dings and I pull the stew from the stove and pour her a bowl, the smell causing my mouth to water. I walk slowly up the stairs. She has not moved from the spot I left her in. I place the bowl next to her on the bedside table and notice the tear tracks shining on her face. Her breathing is shallow. I move her hair out of her face and taking note of how ghostly pale she is. She parts her lips and speaks.

“I’ve ruined everything.” I shake my head instinctively.

“No you haven’t. It’s all-okay now. The Capitol is gone. Snow is dead. Coin is dead. Your mother is safe. Haymitch is safe. I am safe, and Prim is somewhere no one can ever hurt her ever again.” I tell her softly. I have given her this speech a lot over the past five years. She sobs and shakes her head, still not opening her eyes.

“You’re going to…and I just want to waste away.”

“I’m here,” I say, touching her face, she winces again and I withdraw. “I’m fine. The Capitol can’t take me from you.”

“You’re going…”she croaks again, stopping unable to say it. “You’re going to be…so…happy, and I wish I were dead.” My heart stops. I haven’t heard her talk like this for years. She used to say it often, back when we had daily conversations with the therapist, back just after Prim had died, back when Sae or Haymitch always had to be with us…to make sure she didn’t do anything.

“Listen to me.” I begin firmly. “I would never be happy without you. You can’t say that…you…you can’t leave me.” She shakes her head and begins to cough. “Don’t move,” I order her, and I get up and head towards the bathroom, keeping her always in my frame of vision. The bathroom adjoins our room, and I watch her as I fumble for a glass to fill with water, coming up with a plan. I’ll call in sick at the bakery tomorrow, stay with her all day, get the doctors on the phone force them to talk to her or for them to come here. She can’t be alone.

My fingers miss the glass and strike something skinny and plastic instead. I curse, taking my eyes off her to bend to pick up what must be a toothbrush, but I stop. It landed upside down on the tiled floor but I recognize it as capital made. Skinny and round on both ends, white in the middle with a purple cap over the end. This is a pregnancy test. Hands trembling I remember her devastated croak, “You’re going to be…so…happy.” I pick up the test, my head pounding in my chest, as I pick up what must have once occupied the plastic bag from the pharmacy. I flip it over, and it seems to take me a million years to read the screen. It flashes with little fireworks as the test celebrates the news that might destroy my wife. “POSITIVE” it reads in big bold letters over the simulation fireworks.


	2. Chapter 2: I Can't Say It Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings: non graphic self harm, panic attack, and reference to suicide.

A rush of emotions courses through me. At first I am overjoyed, but less than a second later a feeling of terror overcomes me. She never wanted this. Feared it more than any arena and certain death, and now Katniss is lying in our bed paralyzed with fear. I rush back into our room and sit next to her on the bed. She cries hysterically now. Her breathes coming so quickly so shallowly I think she might pass out. I am still holding the test. She begins clawing at my wrists, but I ignore her, grabbing at the phone by the bowl of soup, I dial Dr. Aurelius’ home number, which we are only supposed to use in case of an emergency. His wife answers after three rings.

“Hello,” she asks annoyed. Because of the time difference in the capitol they were probably just getting ready for bed.

“Hello, Mrs. Aurelius? This is Peeta Mellark. I need to speak to your husband about Katniss please, it’s urgent.”

“Of course you do,” she snaps exasperated and hands the phone to her husband saying only my name.

“Peeta?” His voice sounds concerned. I haven’t called after hours in years. “What happened?”

“It’s Katniss I say.” She still is scratching at my wrist, her sobs wracking her body as she thrashes on the bed. “I came home and I found her catatonic, unable to move. I found a test in the bathroom, and she’s…”

“She’s what Peeta?”

“She said she wanted to die.”

“She’s what Peeta?” he repeated more urgently now.

“She’s pregnant.” At my words Katniss screams, as though hearing it has caused her physical pain. I have only ever heard Johanna Mason make sounds like that during our stint as prisoners in the Capitol. It rips me apart. She’s hyperventilating now, as she begins scratching at her body, like she wants to rip her skin off. Dr. Aurelius responds quickly, barely masking panic in his own voice.

“Call Haymitch, get him over to help you. You can’t let her hurt herself. Restrain her. Take her to the hospital. Tell them she is pregnant right away and that she has to be sedated. I’m getting on the next train.”

With a click the line goes dead. I drop the test to the ground and dial Haymitch’s number. Holding the phone between my cheek and my shoulder with no hands, I begin trying to get a grip on her wrists, pinning them above her head. She has long scratch marks that are beginning to bleed on her arms and stomach. She thrashes beneath me as the phone rings and rings. Finally Haymitch answers.

“What!” he slurs into the phone. I groan. Why does he have to be fucking drunk all the time? “What!” he spits again.

“You have to come over now!” I say urgently. Before he can ask why Katniss starts screaming again.

“Just let me die! Why can’t you ever just let me die!!” The line goes dead, and I drop the phone as Katniss struggles against me. I hear the front door slam and Haymitch’s footsteps pounding up the stairs. He stops in the doorway, taking in the sight of me pinning her down, the blood in her fingernails and the scratches up her arms. He moves quickly for being so drunk, and manages to plop himself down on her legs to stop her from kicking her feet into the bedposts.

“What happened?” he asks shakily staring at her. I don’t even know if she registers that either of us are here. She’s hyperventilating and sobbing, begging in whispers to simply cease existing.

“Dr. Aurelius says we have to get her to the hospital. She needs to be sedated and he’s coming. He says to restrain her if we have to. She can’t hurt herself.” I say the last line with such a note of desperation I nearly choke. He nods and begins pulling at the sheets, bunching them up tying her legs together. She doesn’t resists. He ties two pillowcases together and helps me wrap them around her hands. Wordlessly I pick her up, and we move quickly towards the door.

We’re moving through the summer air in seconds. It all feels like a rush. Katniss’ head rests on my shoulder, as she sobs hysterically, practically choking for air, pulling at the pillowcases tying her hands together, trying to loosen the knot. The scratches on her stomach her bleeding now, and I push back tears, trying not to wonder if she wanted to scratch our child out of her. This can’t be happening. I wrack my brain trying to think. We had always been so careful.

It had to have been about a month and a half ago. The weather had taken a turn, and it had rained for close to a week. Katniss had run out of birth control the day before the downpour, and though she had asked me to go to the pharmacy for more, it had slipped my mind. Stuck in Victor’s Village with ample opportunity to make love, we had resorted to an old box of condoms from before we were married. I hadn’t thought to check the expiration date. This would kill her, and it was all my fault.

“What happened?” Haymitch asks me again as we rush past the gates to Victor’s Village towards the hospital on the edge of town. I shake my head. If I say it again she might starts screaming again like before. The word seems to cause her physical pain. “Something had to have triggered it,” he states, starting at her. He clearly thinks this is just a bad episode. “She hasn’t been this bad since the year after the war. People don’t just relapse after half a decade.” He is right. Five years of recovery seems to have just slipped away, and that goddamn test celebrated it with fake fireworks. Hatred rises in me towards the Capitol that made both the test and the condoms.

“I can’t say it again,” I whimper, looking at him desperately. “I told Dr. Aurelius and…and…Haymitch I’ve never heard her scream like that.” He nods.

“Just tell them at the hospital then.” We don’t speak for the rest of the journey, but we walk faster and faster. Finally we break out into a run once we are twenty feet away from the entrance to the emergency room. Pushing through the door, still holding Katniss, I immediately see our general practitioner who must be on call tonight, Dr. Birk. He looks up from a conversation with a nurse, his eyes widening in shock, taking in the sight of Katniss, limbs tied together with bed sheets, bleeding and sobbing hysterically in my arms.

“Get a gurney,” he hollers at the nurse. “The one with restraints,” he adds coming over to us and examining Katniss’ fingernails, which are still caked with blood, revealing her wounds to be self-inflicted. “What happened?” he asks me. I hear Haymitch draw in a quick breath behind me.

“Dr. Aurelius is coming, but he says we have to sedate her,” I say, setting her down on the gurney as the nurse brings it up. There are two cuffs on it, and Dr. Birk begins untying Katniss’ hands and strapping them in. It doesn’t look uncomfortable, but the sight of her being restrained kills me.

“I’ll get an injection into her,” Dr. Birk says. Katniss whimpers at the word. She always hated needles, knocking her out in 13 for days at a time. I shake my head at him, and he looks at me curiously.

“You can’t…not with the usual stuff…” I trail off, looking down at my wife. Her eyes are closed tight, her lower lip quivering.

“Why not?” Both he and Haymitch ask at the same time.

“Because she is pregnant.” The screams start again, painful and desperate. Katniss begins thrashing against the restraints, clawing at the air, eyes open now wide and fearful. Dr. Birk jumps back in shock, and Haymitch’s mouth falls open. I can smell Ripper’s white liquor on his breath. At my words the nurse disappears. She comes back thirty seconds later with a needle in her hands.

“It’s 30ccs.” She says to Dr. Birk. “The one designed for pregnant women.” She looks at me kindly, “It won’t hurt the baby, and she’ll only be asleep for ten hours or so.” I can’t respond. Hearing Katniss cry and scream like that paralyzes me with guilt and shame for doing this to her. Dr. Birk takes the needle.

“Katniss,” he speaks kindly. She doesn’t stop crying, so he says her name louder. “Katniss!” Her sobs break and she looks up at him. “I’m going to tell you exactly what is going to happen now. We have to sedate you, just for a little while. Dr. Aurelius is on his way. While you’re asleep no one is going to do anything to you. You won’t dream. You’ll just rest, while Dr. Aurelius is traveling here. He wants to talk to you and you need to be well rested and calm when he comes. I promise you, the first thing you see when you open your eyes will be Peeta,” he pauses looking down at her shaking and trembling body. “Do you have any questions?” She makes a choking sound. If she does, I doubt she can voice them. “Can I give you the injection?” he asks kindly. She nods slowly, and without hesitating he pushes the needle into her skin. Her head falls to one side as the drugs over come her mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a bit of a shorter chapter, and that not too too much happened. I'm considering combining the next two, to make it a nice long one. Although I don't know when I'll have the chance to update it again. Please let me know what you think!


	3. Chapter 3: The Reality We Now Face

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I originally meant for the second part of this chapter to be the beginning of Chapter 4, but I decided this one just wasn't long enough. It felt too much like a filler chapter. 
> 
> I also want to say that there is discussion of abortion in this chapter. I don't want things to get political here. This isn't the right forum for that. It's just a part of my story, and if you aren't comfortable even hearing about abortion than by all means don't keep reading. I won't take it personally. 
> 
> Enjoy!

I wake up six hours later, sitting in a chair in the hospital. My feet are resting on Katniss’ bed as she sleeps off the drugs. I hear Haymitch’s ragged breathing on the couch behind me and know he’s awake. I had forced him onto the couch, when it became clear he wasn’t going home. I glance back at him. His eyes are puffy.

“Did you sleep at all,” I ask. He shakes his head. “It’s okay if you want to go home and get some rest.”

“No,” he grunts. “I couldn’t sleep if I wanted to.” He pauses looking at me. “So…Sweetheart’s pregnant.” I drop my gaze, wincing, half expecting to hear Katniss begin to scream again, but she’s not with us. She’s somewhere far away, resting peacefully. I nod staring at his feet, ashamed of what I’ve done. “What’s going to happen then?”

“She can’t…” It kills me to say it. This is worse than it would have been if she had never gotten pregnant. I always wanted children so badly, since the war, but not like this, never like this. I have silently begged for Katniss to change her mind, for us to agree to it together. We can start a family no other way. The alternative…the reality we now face would surely kill her. She can never become a mother under these conditions. “She can’t stay pregnant,” I whisper. Haymitch raises his eyes, staring at me in disbelief.

“Don’t look at me like that,” I snap. “You know she never wanted this, has feared it more than anything. She can’t do this. It would kill her Haymitch, and I won’t lose her!”

“Peeta…you’ve always wanted this,” he begins slowly, but I cut him off.

“No! I wanted to start a family with the woman I love. I wanted it to be planned and done delicately, in a way she could handle.” My eyes travel over her wrists, still cuffed to the bed, the bandages on her arms and stomach, covering now cleaned wounds. “I didn’t want _this_.”

The operation was always available in the Capitol, where people had never been forced to do anything or behave a certain way. Snow never allowed it into the Districts, even the ones that did have doctors qualified to perform it. No doubt he didn’t want to lose any potential tributes. It was sadistic really, no means of birth control or ways to safely get rid of an unwanted pregnancy, leaving everyone in the Districts with the choice of being celibate or sending a child to the reaping. Now is different. The operation exists, although it remains wildly unpopular in 12.

“You think she’d go along with that?” asks Haymitch quietly.

“You think she’s not going to wake up and suggest it?” I shoot back. He doesn’t answer. Instead he stares at Katniss, watching as her chest rises and falls softly. I turn away from him. My hands are shaking. As I look at Katniss, I lose all hope. This pregnancy is the end. She’ll never be able to carry this child to term, and after this she will never agree to have another. I cover my face with my hands to hide my tears from Haymitch. All hopes I ever had of having a family are gone. I will never hold a baby in my arms and feel the hope that Annie described after her son was born. She said it felt like the war, the fighting, the deaths, the pain she suffered was all made worth it, and that her child had brought her hope and new life, allowed her move on from the Games and the Rebellion, better than she ever could have dreamed of.

I take Katniss’ restrained hand in my own and kiss her fingers. I would give all of it up for her a million times. I had been willing to sacrifice much more before. I don’t need anything else, but it is going to be hard to let go of that dream. Haymitch claps me on the shoulder, and I hear Dr. Birk clear is throat. I look up and see him standing in the doorway with a chart. A rush of gratitude washes over me for the way he spoke to Katniss before he sedated her. I sit up wiping my eyes.

“Her vitals are fine. We mended the scratches as best we could. She won’t need new skin grafts, and she appears to have done no lasting damage.” He pauses. “Do you know how far a long she is?”

“Not…not for sure.”  

“An estimate? Your best guess?”

“A month and a half…probably.” I hear Haymitch chuckle. He must remember the rainstorm, all of us being trapped in Victor’s Village. If Dr. Birk remembers the storm he shows no signs, scribbling on his clipboard.

“I want to get an OBGYN in,” he continues. I shake my head. “Peeta please, the stress could have caused damage to the pregnancy. Someone should do an ultrasound.”

“You said, while she was asleep we wouldn’t do anything to her. I’m not having an ultrasound done with her unconscious, not when…. not when I know how she feels about all of this.” The doctor is shaking his head.

“Peeta, her elevated heart rate, the blood pressure, she was having a panic attack. You can’t say you know how she feels about the pregnancy based off tonight.”

“But I do know how she feels. I have been married to her for nearly four years. I know exactly how she feels. We aren’t doing anything to her, involving this pregnancy without her permission.” I can’t stand the thought of an ultrasound, seeing the baby, hearing its heartbeat. Having seen that would make it impossible to be there for Katniss when she wakes up and asks for the procedure I know she will so desperately need. “We wait for her to wake up and talk to Aurelius. Then we proceed however she wants to.”

“Peeta she might not be mentally stable enough to make that kind of a decision,” Dr. Birk says exasperated.

“We wait for her to wake up and talk to Aurelius. Then we proceed however she wants to,” I repeat steadily. Dr. Birk shakes his head and places the clipboard at the end of the bed.

“She’ll wake up before he gets here. I suggest you give him a call on the train.” Without another word he turns and leaves.

***

The nurses let me use the phone at their station, and I decide to call sooner rather than later, since Katniss should be awake in the next three hours or so. I call the operator with Dr. Aurelius’ expected arrival time and she connects me to the right train. A Capitol attendant answer and I wait patiently while he goes to get the doctor.

“Peeta?” his voice is dripping with concern. “Where are you?”

“We’re at the hospital in 12. Katniss is sleeping off a sedative. Dr. Birk says she’ll wake up before you get here.” All of Katniss and I’s doctors are familiar with each other.

“What else is he saying?”

“He says it was a panic attack and that he wants to do an ultrasound.” There is a long pause.

“Is he scheduling one?”

“No. I won’t let him. He swore to her we wouldn’t do anything to her while she was asleep. I don’t want an ultrasound.”

“Peeta the panic attack could have affected the baby. The doctors need to know.”

“She doesn’t want the baby!” All the nurses behind their station jump as I begin to yell. “You know that! She’s been saying so for years! If I see it…or hear its…” I take a deep shaky breath and continue, lowering my voice to a whisper so the nurses can’t hear. “I have to be able to let her make the decision she needs to make when she wakes up. I won’t be able to do that if they do an ultrasound.”

“You really think she’d terminate the pregnancy Peeta?”

“Of course she will.” I respond. I know this for a fact. He doesn’t answer. “Can you just tell me what to do with her until you get here.”

“Talk to her calmly. Don’t bring up the baby. Answer any questions that she has. Get some water in her. Try to get her to eat something, and let her talk to the doctor’s herself, if she can. You know how she is. If she’s capable of taking the lead she’ll take it, and it sounds like you’re willing to let her do that.” I don’t tell him I’m counting on it. I don’t trust myself to make any decisions. I would make the selfish one for myself, not for her, not for us, but for me. I can’t let that happen. Having this baby would destroy her, but without her I won’t be strong enough to let it go. If she is still unable to function I don’t know what I’ll do.

I hang up the phone and turn back to her room. Haymitch has fallen asleep. I resume my seat next to Katniss’ bed and just stare at her. Her chest is rising and falling. Her eyes flutter every now and then, indicating her brain is beginning to fight off the drugs. I put my feet up on her bed again, leaning back. I close my eyes and begin drifting in and out of sleep, head resting on my shoulder. Dr. Birk comes in a few times to try and get me to change my mind about the ultrasound. He points out that Katniss might not be able to make a decision and encourages me to come up with a back up plan, but I can’t. I would never be able to make any kind of decision about her body without her.


	4. Chapter 4: The Exit You Need

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: There is brief mention of abortion and self harm in this chapter.

I’m leaning forward on the bed, head resting on my folded arms, drifting somewhere between dozing and being conscious when I hear the soft clink of the restraints moving. They make a light snapping sound, and I know Katniss has pulled her arms up as far as she can, which is only about six inches off the bed. I reach out and take the hand that’s closest to me. She clasps it tightly. I sit up and instantly find her grey eyes, gazing at me. She swallows hard.

“Water…” she croaks. I nod and fill a glass with a pitcher sitting on her bedside table. Haymitch shifts on the couch but doesn’t get up. He’s either sleeping or pretending to be asleep to let us talk. Either way I don’t care. I hold the cup up to her lips and trembling she takes a sip, then another, then another. Slowly she drinks half the cup, and I remember her forcing me to drink in the cave during our first games. For an instant I miss being alone with her in the cave, young, before the rebellion, back when we thought if we could just survive life would be simple. She leans back into the pillows, and I set the glass down.

“How are you feeling?” I ask calmly.

“Shaken.”

“Completely understandable.” I reply trying to smile. I remember Dr. Aurelius’ advice about keeping her calm. “Do you want something to eat? I can call a nurse.” She shakes her head.

“The baby?” she whispers. I stare at her, unsure what to say. I was told not to talk about it with her, but to answer all her questions and let her take the lead. Dr. Aurelius must have thought she never would bring the subject up herself. I didn’t think she would either.

“I should wake Haymitch,” I say, my voice shaking, “Tell him to go home. He hasn’t slept for more than a few hours.” She glances at Haymitch, still lying on the couch behind me. I don’t check to see if his breathing is even. I don’t want to know if he’s awake.

“I…” she gulps. I reach for the water and offer her some. She takes a few sips and starts again. “I…I lost it…didn’t I?” My heart drops. I set the cup back on the table. “Please just tell me,” she whimpers, looking hard at my face. Unimaginable sadness must be etched on it. She looks like the mere sight of me is causing her physical pain.

“I don’t know,” I offer lamely. She shakes her head slightly in disbelief.

“I don’t deserve you. I wish I’d died the first arena.”

“Don’t talk like that!” I say firmly, but she’s crying now.

“I could have given you everything you ever wanted, but I ruined it…destroyed it.” I am shaking my head.

“Katniss,” I reach for her, but she winces away from me again. I withdraw my hand. “The doctors don’t know if you miscarried. They wanted to do an ultrasound but I wouldn’t let them.” She begins making the choking sound again, the sound that usually accompanies her sobs. “Do you want me to get Dr. Birk to do that ultrasound?” She pauses, her breathing sounding labored, but then she nods. I get up and move towards the door calling for Dr. Birk. I see him, nod to me and begin to head in our direction.

I come back into the room. Haymitch still hasn’t moved. He must be pretending to be asleep, but Katniss is completely focused on me now.

“Why wouldn’t you let him do an ultrasound?” Katniss asks confused, her face shining with tears. Before I can answer Dr. Birk arrives.

“Good to see you awake Katniss,” he says brightly. “How are you feeling?”

“I want the ultrasound,” she says firmly. Relief washes over me. Her voice sounds steady again, not loud but firm. I take Dr. Aurelius’ advice and allow her to take the lead. Dr. Birk frowns.

“Dr. Aurelius will be here in a just a few hours. It might be better to wait now that you’re awake, in case the results aren’t…what you are hoping for.” He finishes lamely, clearly not knowing which news would be worse. At this point learning that she is either still pregnant or has miscarried could cause her severe psychological damage. Katniss is shaking her head.

“I need to know,” she says, still firmly. Dr. Birk looks at me.

“You said we should wait until she talks with him,” he said pointedly. I look at Katniss, then back at the doctor, and shake my head.

“All he would do is help her sort out what she wants. It would be worse if she figures out what she wants and gets the opposite. If she’s awake and consenting to finding out, it’s probably best to know what we’re dealing with.” Dr. Birk messages the bridge of his nose.

“I’ll call the OBGYN then,” he states and turns to leave, and I walk back into the room. Katniss’ hands are still tethered down, and I don’t have the key to unlock them. She allows me to cup her hand in mine as I sit back down. I stroke her thumb and place my other hand on her cheek caressing it delicately. She bites her lip, looking at me, clearly terrified.

“Whatever you want to do,” I tell her, “it’s fine.”

Twenty minutes later the door opens and a machine is pushed through it. The door knocks against it awkwardly, as the small nurse, who is at least a foot smaller than the contraption and six inches skinner, struggles to maneuver it. I have never seen someone so small. I stand up and push the door back for her, as she huffs and pushes the load into the room.

“Hi!” she chirps. “I’m from Dr. Clora’s team.” Her voice has a peppery tone to it, and her smile might be fatter than she is. I stare. The concept of being happy at a time like this is so foreign I almost don’t recognize the emotion. Haymitch is no longer pretending to be asleep and I hear him spluttering on the couch. “She’s on her way down right now.”

“Dr. Clora?” I repeat.

“The OBGYN.” The door opens again and Dr. Birk walks in accompanied by a tall woman with a sharp jaw line and white jacket.

“Katniss, Peeta this is Dr. Clora,” Dr. Birk begins, but Dr. Clora has moved past him and is pulling up a seat next to Katniss. I take the seat on the other side as the doctor’s eyes fall on Haymitch.

“You should be waiting outside,” she snaps. He splutters more. “Or better yet, perhaps you should go get checked for alcohol poisoning.” Her voice is dripping with disdain.

“Is that really necessary Clora?” asks Birk.

“This is my procedure, Birk. I can dismiss whomever I like from the room. Come to think of it, is your presence even needed?”

“It most certainly is,” he responds indignantly. “Mrs. Mellark is my patient and has been for five years. I admitted her and prescribed the first sedative, and last I checked you are not at liberty to give her more if it’s needed.” I tune out of their bickering and look at Katniss. When the nurse entered with the machine, her eyes had darted up to the ceiling. She was refusing to make eye contact with me, and I could hear her taking deep steading breathes. I gripped her hand and squeezed.

“Well then,” says Dr. Clora, as Haymitch slams the door shut. “Let’s get started.” She rolls up the shirt of Katniss’ pajamas and reaches behind her. The nurse hands her a tube of gel, which she begins squeezing out onto Katniss’ stomach. Her eyes snap to Dr. Clora’s face, and as the two women make eye contact, Dr. Clora smiles. “Just relax.”

The nurse switches the machine on and unhooks a kind of metal wand from it. A screen lights up, and Dr. Clora takes the wand. I grip Katniss’ hand harder, and lean down, pressing my forehead against our fingers, closing my eyes. I don’t want to see. I hear nothing for a few second. I focus on the feel of Katniss’ skin against mine, listening as her breath comes out steady but slightly shallow. Then I hear it. I quick thumping sound…my child’s heartbeat. A tear slides down my face. This is all I will ever have. The minutes tick by, and I don’t sit up. I can no longer hear Katniss’ breathing over the sound of our baby’s heartbeat.

“Things appear to be okay.” I hear Dr. Clora as though she is speaking from miles away. “That’s about what you would expect at a month and a half. If you look right there,” she says, “You can see the baby.” I don’t move. I keep my eyes closed. I don’t want to see it. I can hear a slight rustle and feel Katniss’ body reposition a bit as she looks at the screen. There is a sound of a switch and the heartbeat stops. The machine has been turned off. I sit up as Dr. Clora wipes the gel off Katniss’ stomach. I glance at my wife. She’s pointedly not look at me, staring at Dr. Clora as the nurse pushes the machine out again, banging it against the door.

“How are you feeling Katniss?” Dr. Birk asks from the corner, his eyes glued to my wife’s face. I can’t read any emotion on it. She shrugs.

“See Birk, and you thought she’d need more sedative.” Dr. Clora stands up now. “I’ll be seeing you both again soon. Come on Birk and give them a minute before you pounce.” She pushes past him and leaves. He stares at us for a few more seconds and follows. I look at Katniss. Her eyes are focused on our intertwined fingers. Ten minutes go by and we don’t speak. I feel empty on the inside, like everything that could have ever helped me move on with my life has been dangled in front of my face and lit on fire.

“You’ve always been the one who knows the right thing to say,” Katniss whispers. “I need you to start.” Her eyes meet mine, and I sigh.

“I don’t think I can.” I want to give her an out. I know she needs me to. “I want to be selfish, very badly. I don’t know how to give you the exit you need.” She stares at me as I speak.

“You wouldn’t look at the picture.” It’s a statement.

“I’m just trying to survive this Katniss.” She sucks in her breathe.

“I never thought I’d hear you talk about it like this. I thought this was what you wanted.”

“I wanted you to change your mind. I wanted to plan it with you. I wanted you to be prepared and in control, have it be a decision we made together. I never wanted _this_. You…unable to handle it…only in this condition because…because I was a forgetful idiot.”

“Peeta,” she whispers my name softly.

“I can’t get attached,” I continue, ignoring her. “I don’t want to let myself believe this is ever…going to come to anything.” She falls back on her pillow looking dejected.

“What exactly is it that you think you need to survive? Can you just tell me what you think is going to happen?”

“I think that when Dr. Birk comes back, you’re going to ask to schedule an abortion.” She studies my face.

“I can’t do that to you.”

“This shouldn’t be about me. I’m not the one who was driven to the brink by this. That pregnancy test didn’t make me feel suicidal or cause me to have a panic attack and try to rip my skin off.” I pause here, my heart rate accelerating at the memory. “The blood, Katniss…” She looks down at the bandages now, as if noticing them for the first time. Tears begin to fall from her eyes.

“I’m…I’m…I’m so…so sorry,” she whispers, biting her lips.

“Please don’t apologize,” I beg her, “Katniss, I just need you to tell me what you need. All I want is to keep you safe and healthy. Tell me. It’s okay.”

“I want to wait for Dr. Aurelius.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I almost didn't think I was going to get to update this week. I am glad to say that I found the time.
> 
> The first half of this chapter was originally supposed to be in chapter with the second half of the last chapter, but I decided things would be too slow. I didn't want anyone getting bored, and I really hate filler chapters. Feel free to let me know what you think!


	5. Chapter 5: Not Deciding is Deciding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings: Mention of self harm, suicide and abortion.

I open the door, and Dr. Birk and Haymitch come back in. Haymitch’s hair looks ridiculous, sticking out at all angles. His eyes are puffy and red. He has barely slept in the past week, overcome by fresh bout of nightmares. He shuffles over to the couch. Dr. Birk brow is creased with concern as he studies Katniss. She’s lying back in bed, hands still cuffed. I take up my seat next to her again, closing my fingers around hers. She doesn’t wince at my touch. Dr. Birk closes the door.

“Peeta and Haymitch have told me everything that happened, Katniss,” he begins slowly. She nods, face unreadable. “You talked about wanting to die, begged Peeta to let you in fact. And the damaged you caused to yourself…. Given your mental health history and the slashes on your arms and abdomen, the law states I won’t be able to discharge you for at least two weeks.” I close my eyes for a few seconds and squeeze Katniss’ hand. Having to stay indoors in the hospital will come as quite a blow. “Dr. Aurelius has agreed to stay in twelve for the next few weeks. You’ll be required to meet with him as much as he sees fit during this time. If he deems it appropriate, you can be discharged in a fortnight.”

I look at Haymitch. His eyes are focused on the legs of the bed. I almost expect him to protest about the time frame, saying it’s too extreme, but not a word escapes his lips. If anything he looks relieved.

“Anything else?” asks Katniss. She hates being treated like a thing and the fact that this is legally required is going to annoy her. No doubt she’s thinking of all the times she was forced into confinement by Capitol or District 13 doctors.   

“I feel I should tell you, I’ve talked to Dr. Aurelius about placing you back on suicide watch during this time, but he wants to wait till he’s spoken to you directly to make any decisions.” Katniss scrunches up her forehead, an expression of frustration etched across her face. “Then there is also a matter of the…” he trails off, not doubt remembering how she screamed the last time the word was uttered. I’m grateful he stopped just short of saying it. It seems to hang in the air though, and Katniss sinks deeper into her pillow, casting her eyes away from Dr. Birk, Haymitch, and myself, the creases vanishing from her forehead.

“If you need more time,” Dr. Birk coughs gently, “I understand. I know you both have different feelings on this particular topic.”

“We want to discuss it with Dr. Aurelius,” I inform Dr. Birk, as Katniss closes her eyes. He nods, understanding. I sigh deeply.

“Can I talk with you outside Peeta?” I get up and kiss Katniss on the forehead, following the doctor out of the room. Haymitch gets up from the couch and takes my seat next to the bed as we close the door. I follow him to a small nook ten feet from the door. I can still see Katniss and Haymitch through the window that looks into her room. Dr. Birk turns to me.

“From a medical perspective, I have to tell you, if her mental state is stressed by the pregnancy, she has a greater chance of miscarriage.” I nod, having expected as much. “We won’t know the degree of how damaged her mental state is until Dr. Aurelius has had done his assessments, which will probably last over the next two weeks, but we might not have time for that.”

“What do you mean?”

“Panem law states that an abortion cannot be performed once the pregnancy has progressed past the second month. By the time Dr. Aurelius has determined if Katniss is capable of carrying the baby to term without damaging her psyche, it would be too late for her to do anything but.” I bite my lip. “I know that this is a difficult position, but I have to tell you, speaking as your doctor, I can’t recommend Katniss proceed with the pregnancy. It’s too much of a risk.”

“I doubt she’d choose to have the baby,” I say, trying hard not the recall the thump of its heartbeat. “I’d be surprised if we haven’t scheduled everything by the end of the day.” Dr. Birk pats me on the shoulder a few times.

“I’m very sorry Peeta,” he offers. I look at him, and I know that he knows what I know. After Katniss has an abortion, she will never change her mind. We will never have children. All I can do is nod to show my thanks. “We’ll wait for Dr. Aurelius then.”

“The restraints?” I ask.

“I don’t know if I feel comfortable removing them yet. She’s calm right now, but you know how suddenly she can shift… if some one says the word pregnant again for example.” The image of Katniss’ fingers drawing blood from her own flesh flashes before me. No. The restraints must remain on, at least until Dr. Aurelius gets here. I glance at the clock. He should be here within the hour. I thank Dr. Birk and return to the room.

Haymitch is picking at a thread on Katniss’ blanket. She’s staring blankly at the ceiling, apparently unaware that anyone is in the room with her. I clap Haymitch on the shoulder.

“Why don’t you go home? Get some sleep. I’ll call you after we’ve spoken to Dr. Aurelius.” He hesitates. “The geese probably need feeding.” He shakes his head.

“They don’t need me as much as some people,” he whispers, glancing at Katniss. She’s laying so still, I would think she were asleep, if her grey seam eyes weren’t open and beginning to water. As if on cue, she suddenly let’s out a frustrated scream, and begins to kick and thrash around in her bed. Her wrists strain against the restraints. Haymitch pulls a flask out of his jacket, and I close my eyes, unable to stand the sight of my wife breaking down. Haymitch gets up, and taps me on the shoulder. I open my eyes as he offers me the flask. I shake my head.

“Well, if you can listen to these screams sober…then good for you.” He grumbles, taking another gulp. I close my eyes again and wish with all my might that this is just a hijacking flashback. When I open my eyes, I’ll be clutching the back of dining room chair. The rain will be beginning to start and Katniss will be at the kitchen sink, taking her birth control, from the prescription that I remembered to pick up that day.

I open my eyes when the door slams. I am not in my house in Victor’s Village. Katniss is still screaming and thrashing on the bed, trying to break the links on the restraints. Haymitch stumbles out of the room, sitting on a bench opposite the door, I watch as he tries to cover his ears with both hands, blocking out my wife’s hysterics. I can’t say I blame him. No nurse or doctor comes, probably knowing she can’t do herself any harm with the cuffs on. I collapse in the seat next to the bed and resting my elbows on my knees cover my face. I don’t want Katniss to see my tears.

I look up when I feel a hand on my shoulder and balk. For the first time in five years I’m looking directly into Dr. Aurelius’ face. I pull myself to my feet, unable to say anything he’d hear over Katniss’ screams. My face is still stained with tears. I shake my head at him and walk to the corner of the room, facing the wall. I pound it with my fist in desperation. I turn back to the room. Dr. Aurelius is sitting in the chair opposite my own. His bags are resting at the foot of the bed, and he is calmly checking a watch on his wrist, waiting.

After another five minutes or so, Katniss’ screams begin to reduce and her thrashing becomes less fierce. She’s wearing herself out. She glances at my empty chair and her eyes dart around widely, searching for me. We make eye contact, briefly, before I drop her gaze, wiping my tears away. She stops thrashing completely and the room goes quiet except for her panting. Her arms become lip at her sides, but I can see angry red marks on her wrists from where she was pushing against the restraints. She’s still staring at me. I recognize the expression on her face. It’s the same one she wears when she is saying something truly terrible about herself. It’s self-loathing.

“Tuckered out?” asks Dr. Aurelius. Katniss doesn’t answer. She just keeps staring at me. “I hear we have a lot to talk about Katniss,” he continues kindly. “Would you mind if I talk to her alone Peeta?” he inquires, turning to me. I shake my head and leave the room as quickly as I can. I join Haymitch on the bench and don’t refuse when he offers me a swig from the flask. I cough, remembering the announcement of the Quarter Quell, when Katniss got drunk with him. I watch through the window as Dr. Aurelius talks. I can’t hear is words or guess what they might be based off the movements of his lips. Katniss doesn’t respond though. She just keeps staring straight ahead. They settle in, just staring at each other as Dr. Aurelius waits for a response.

I am not sure how much time has passed, but neither of them seem deterred from their current course of action. Haymitch and I just sit outside. Him drinking heavily, me taking the occasional gulp. Eventually I begin to feel numb and my thoughts start to slow a little. By the time Dr. Aurelius emerges the flask is empty, and Haymitch has fallen asleep, clutching it losing and snoring loudly. Everything seems murky to me.

“Peeta?” I look up at Aurelius. His brow is creased and his lips are frowning in concern. “We should go for a walk.” I stand up, swaying a little on my feet, wondering if I’m going to throw up. I follow him out of the hospital, and wordlessly we begin to walk towards Victor’s Village. Since the hospital is on the outskirts of town closest to the Village we’ll arrive in less than twenty minutes.

“What do you think?” I ask, squinting in the sunlight. It strikes me as odd that the world had kept moving after we’d entered the hospital the night before.

“I think I haven’t seen her this bad since after the bombing. She won’t talk to me Peeta.” My heart sinks. “She’s practically catatonic.”

“No she came to. She asked for the ultrasound. We talked about what we were going to do.”

“And what did she say?” I think back to our earlier conversation. We hadn’t come to a decision. She hadn’t given any hint as to how she felt about having an abortion other than to say she couldn’t do it to me. But I had won that argument…hadn’t I?

“Nothing that made sense.” Dr. Aurelius nodded as though this was what he expected.

“She can’t make this decision, Peeta. She can’t even wrap her mind around the fact that she’s pregnant without experiencing an overpowering feeling of panic. I doubt she could even think about it long enough to tell us if she wanted an abortion.” My heart sinks.

“Well then what can we do to get her to a point where she can think about it?” He’s shaking his head.

“You know there is nothing we can do. She needs time to overcome the panic, like she needed time to overcome the grief from losing Prim. Until then, you’re going to have to be in charge.” I shake my head.

“How long will she need?”

“You where there after Prim’s death. When did she start functioning again?”

“We don’t have that kind of time! Dr. Birk says we can only legally terminate the pregnancy for another two weeks.”

“Peeta,” he begins softly. We’re crossing under the gate to Victor’s Village. “You have to start preparing to make this decision without her.” I’m shaking my head.

“I cannot make decisions about her body without her consent. That is what the Capitol did to her, and District 13 for that matter. Sending her here, waxing her, putting her in that dress or that one, injecting trackers into her, deciding when she should be awake and when she should be sedated, who she should marry. I won’t do it to her.”

“Then she’s going to stay pregnant,” he states matter-of-factly. “You can’t pause the growing fetus inside her Peeta. That’s the thing about kids, they keep on going even when you’re begging them to stop.” We’re standing outside the entrance to our house now. I don’t want to open the door and see the pot of soup I’d made the night before, cold on the stove now. I don’t want to go upstairs to shower and change clothes, and find the positive pregnancy test on the floor next to the bed. If I go inside I’ll have to strip the bed and the sheets to get Katniss’ blood off it. I stop outside the door.

“The way things stand Peeta, you have two options. The first is to schedule an abortion. The second is to let Katniss’ pregnancy progress. Either way, I have to go back to the hospital and report to Dr. Birk that Katniss has relapsed into a catatonic state accompanied by violent outbursts against herself and panic attacks. I am going to have to declare that she is not mentally capable of making medical decisions for herself at this time. Once I tell him that, responsibility for deciding what procedures she will or will not receive will fall on her next of kin, which would be you Peeta.”

“I won’t do it. I won’t decide.”

“Refusing to decide, is deciding in this case.” He shakes his head. “I have to get back to the hospital to report my findings to Dr. Birk.. Go inside. Take a shower,. Get a change of clothes. Find some things around the house that Katniss likes, and bring them to the hospital. Take a nap. Just think about what is best for your family while you do it.” With that, he turns and walks back towards the hospital.

I wait until he’s out of sight, then race across the lawn to Haymitch’s house. He left the door unlocked, and I’m inside in seconds. Ignoring the smell I walk quickly into the kitchen, where I find one of the boxes that Capitol train delivers to him every month. I pull it out from under the table and grab one of the bottles inside. This isn’t Ripper’s white liquor. The liquid in this bottle is a dark brown color, but I break the seal and take a long hard swig. It burns going down like Ripper’s liquor does. I get up slowly, and hazily make my way into Haymitch’s living room. Collapsing in his favorite armchair, where I have so often awaken him from drunken stupors, I continue to slowly but steadily drain the bottle. It doesn’t take long for the alcohol to numb me and make me forget about my wife and unborn child, waiting in the hospital for me to choose between them. I chug and chug and chug until I think I’m going to throw up. It takes me close to an hour of this before I finally pass out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was orginally supposed to be two chapters, but they both seemed to flat. I decided to combine them. I've got a lot this story already written, and I'm really excited about the things that are coming! Please leave a comment and let me know what you think!


	6. Chapter 6: Don't Touch My Liquor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings: Discussion of Abortion, Discussion of Self Harm, and one F bomb. 
> 
> Enjoy! More notes at the end.

The cold water hits me in the face causing me to snarl like some combination of a wounded and enraged animal. I jump up and throw the mostly empty bottle at whoever had doused me in water. Haymitch just manages to dodge it, and it flies past him smashing on the wall. The liquor now soaks the wallpaper, since its container is in pieces on the floor. I stand panting and shaking from the violent way I’ve been woken.

“Not very pleasant,” Haymitch muses, watching me place my hands on my knees and lower my head. The room is spinning a little. “And did you have to open a good bottle?” he whines, “That was a Capitol bottle. Couldn’t just drown your sorrows in some of Ripper’s crap white liquor?”

“Like I fucking care Haymitch,” I snap. He raises his eyebrows at me.

“Well aren’t you just a lovely house guest, breaking in, drinking the good stuff without me, and that language!” The sarcasm might as well be dripping down the wall with the alcohol.

“What do you want?” I demand. He raises his eyebrows at me. Of course I have no right to demand such things from him. It’s his house.

“You’re pregnant and panicking wife was asking me what happened to you. You’ve been gone for hours.” I glance outside. It’s pitch black, the dead of night. It has to at least be past midnight. “Honestly,” he continues. “I would expect this kind of behavior from her. Not you.”

“Excuse me?”

“Running away. Getting drunk. Passing out. Refusing to talk to anyone or listen to their advice. Denying that any kind action is needed because of your own god damn emotions.” I don’t say anything. He’s right. That is what Katniss would be doing. Hell that is what she is doing. Unable to physically flee from her own body, she has retreated into a deep panicking depression that is she currently hiding in.

“You’ve got to pull it together, boy,” he growls. “Your family can only afford to have one of you incapacitated at a time, and your wife is beyond reaching right now.”

“They sedated her again?”

“They had to. Once the sun went down and you still weren’t home, she started screaming. They let her go for a while, but her wrists were bleeding. She found a few rough spots on those cuffs. They were changing out the restraints for softer ones when I left. You know Aurelius has declared her temporarily insane?” I nod and get to my feet.

“I should get back.”

“No you shouldn’t. There’s not point. They gave her another dose of sedative about an hour ago. She’s going to be passed out for another nine. Go home. Eat something. Take a shower. Think about what you’re going to do, and don’t touch my liquor.” He turns on his heels and walks into the kitchen. I can hear him scrapping around trying to find a new bottle. I walk out of his house, and cross the lawn to my own. I pull the door open, shivering from the cold air and the water, still dripping from my hair. Closing the door behind me, I walk into my own kitchen and begin buttering a slice of bread, not wanting to touch the soup I had made for Katniss.

I walk up the stairs and enter our bedroom. It is missing its top sheet and the pillows are lying naked, scattered around the floor. I had forgotten to check to see what happened to our bed sheets after they’d strapped Katniss down. I strip the bed of all the sheets that remain, taking care not to look at the bloodstains. I walk out back and dump them in a bucket, which I begin to fill slowly with water. Once the sheets are soaking, I return to the house for another piece of bread with butter.

Overcome by hunger I finish the whole loaf, watching the second hand tick around the clock again and again. I can’t form whole thoughts. I just sit waiting for some kind of moment of clarity to hit me. I try to think of what Katniss would do, and while logically I feel she would chose to not stay pregnant, my heart protests. After all these years is it possible she loves me too much to abort a child…my child…our child…all I feel our lives have been missing. At the same time something about choosing for her to have an abortion…it feels too controlling, like it’s not a procedure I can just decide she should have. There seems to be something so violent and barbaric about the situation, a group of men forcing a mentally unstable pregnant girl to have an abortion for her own good. However the past twenty-four hours have proved to me that she is not prepared to handle the pregnancy. If steps aren’t taken, I could lose her. I can’t lose her. She is everything. I have been willing to give up my own life for her in the past, but this isn’t my life I’d be giving up for her. I can’t do it. I can’t choose between my wife’s sanity and my child’s life.

I sit in at the counter until the sun begins to rise. Standing I mindlessly walk to the shower, removing my clothes, and stepping under the boiling hot water. No clarity comes. I begin washing myself mechanically applying soap and rinsing it off. I can’t decide, but Dr. Aurelius’ words are echoing in my mind. He is right, not deciding, is deciding. I wonder if Katniss might come to in the next week or so, if she could open her eyes and just tell me what to do. That is what will have to happen. I will have to find a way to get through to her. Shutting the shower off, I step into the bathroom, drying myself, and walk into our bedroom, throwing fresh clothes on. I bend down next to the bed and pick up the pregnancy test. I look at it again. The screen is still flashing with fake fireworks. I remember the game makers setting fireworks off after the arena blew up at the Quarter Quell. The thought of how much they seem to love celebrating things that only bring me pain makes me want to vomit. I drop the test on the now bare mattress, wanting it as far from me as possible and turn to Katniss’ closet.

I stuff a fresh pair of pajamas and underwear into a bag. I grab her toothbrush and toothpaste from the bathroom, and move around the room, looking for things. I pick up her father’s old hunting jacket and carefully place it in the bag. I grab the book she had been reading from the bedside table and toss in the one she had been planning to read next on a whim. Going downstairs, I wrap a few cheese buns that I had made the day before yesterday in some napkins and zip the bag up.

I am back at the hospital in ten minutes, panting and sweating. The sun is almost completely up now. The nurse waves me over and tells me they’ve moved Katniss. She directs me to an area of the hospital I know well. It’s the mental ward, where I go when they have to examine my brain to see how I’m coping with the hijacking. I walk slowly to the south section of the hospital, and enter Katniss’ new room. She sleeps soundly on the bed, which looks larger and more comfortable than the last one. Her hands are now tied down with padded cuffs. I can see fresh bandages around her wrists from where she dug into the last set. I haven’t been here before, and it has more space than the last one. The couch is larger and looks more welcoming, as do the chairs sitting on either side of her bed. The TV set is new and includes a channel listing. The walls are painted a light blue, and someone has clearly tried to make the place seem homey. I set down the duffel bag, getting the distinct impression we’re going to be staying here a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a little shorter than the last one. I've been combining a lot of what I originally wrote, but I couldn't do it with this one. What happens next I really like as a stand alone chapter. I hope everyone is enjoying what they're reading. I'm loving the feedback I'm getting so far! Thank you to everyone who has been reviewing!


	7. Chapter 7: Dream Soft Dreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings: Description of panic, discussion of abortion and brief mention of self harm.
> 
> Don't let the warnings fool you! I'm just being safe, because I don't want people to read something that could upset them. This chapter is actually probably one of the sweetest chapters in the whole story. It ends a bit more of a warm and fuzzy note, which if your week has been anything like mine, you could probably use.

The moon is creeping over the tops of the trees. It’s casting an eerie light in through the window by the sofa, which I have left propped open, just an inch to get the cool breeze on my face. It has been just over a week since the day we found out about the pregnancy. I have only five days left to make a decision. I roll over having woken for a brief moment. The couch is somewhat uncomfortable. I’m wondering what woke me when I hear it again, a choking and gasping sound coming from the bed. Katniss crying. I stand up and walk over to her. Her eyes are squeezed shut as tears slid down her face. I cup both her cheeks and lightly kiss her.

She seems to relax at my touch, but upon trying to move her hands she moans. Since she refuses to speak to Dr. Aurelius, he has not granted permission for the restraints to be removed. Opening her eyes, she takes in our surroundings, the hospital room barely illuminated by moonlight. A small tear slides down her cheek.

“Lean forward,” I whisper. The bed is adjusted so, its head is facing up, allowing her to be in a mostly seated position. She leans forward, scooting down a few inches, and I swing my good leg behind her and pull myself up onto the bed, adjusting and pulling my prosthetic after me, till she is lying against my chest, her body resting soundly between my legs. She leans back into me, the top of her head resting just under my chin. Normally when we are in this position, I wrap my arms around her abdomen, but since finding out about the pregnancy I have been careful to avoid touching that part of her. Instead I begin to stroke her arms, tracing the patterns I would draw with frosting if she were a cake.

“Better?” I ask. She nods. The past week had been difficult. She mostly just lies there, catatonic. Dr. Aurelius tries to talk to her at least twice a day, sometimes with me there, sometimes without me there. Dr. Birk comes and tries to impress upon me the importance of making a decision sooner rather than later. He goes on about her blood pressure and medical ability to be pregnant and give birth, asking me all kinds of questions about any toxins she might have come in contact with. He talks about it with Katniss fully conscious. She watches us clearly, listening, but never offers any opinion.

Haymitch comes in everyday as well. He just sits on the couch though, flask in one hand, remote in the other, yelling at the TV. When I last called the bakery, I asked the they boys if they could ask Sae to stop by and make sure Haymitch is eating and pay her for her trouble. I haven’t been to work since Katniss was admitted to the hospital, and I’m grateful and Liam, Ryan, and Yates, my three employees, understand. None of them of course know the real reason for Katniss’ relapse. I was vague when I told them she had been admitted to the hospital for psychiatric evaluation, but no one questions it. It is common knowledge that sometimes Katniss still struggles.

I begin to rock her slowly back and forth, my arms wrapped around her shoulders, soothing her as the tears begin to subside. She’s shaking in my embrace now. Her hands clutch at the side of the bed, her knuckles white. This is the most I’ve touched her in days. Her muscles feel tense, and her skin dry and cracked from the harsh soap the nurses have been using to bath her. Her hair lies loose. I took out her braid while she was sedated the first day, and despite all the rest she has been getting her eyes are puffy from exhaustion.

“What are you going to do?” she asks me.

“What do you mean?” I ask confused. I’ve been here with her this whole time. I’ll sleep in the hospital bed with her tonight, and watch TV with her tomorrow or read to her, like we’ve been doing for a little over a week now. What else is there to do?

“Me? And…” she trails off. I push her hair back from her neck. She is staring at the wall across the room, not making eye contact with me. “You said you didn’t want it this way…does that mean you’re going to have them…”

“It doesn’t have to be what I’m going to do,” I tell her.

“Dr. Aurelius says I can’t make decisions.”

“But if I tell him it’s my decision…”

“I can’t do it. I can’t think straight. You have to do it.” Her voice is shaking. I know how difficult this has to be for her. She is not the most trusting person. It’s a mark of how far we’ve come that she’s asking me to do this for her, that she trusts me. The best way to be worthy of that trust is think only of her.

“Then just tell me how you feel. Help me decide what is best for us, for you.”

“Every time I think of having an abortion…I just want to die because it’d be too selfish, after everything you did. Keeping me alive, physically. Putting me back together, helping me heal. I can’t destroy it, because it’s a piece of you…” I close my eyes, breathing in deeply, allowing myself to imagine a baby. “But…” I push the image from my mind like it might be toxic. “But whenever I fall asleep or try to imagine a baby…I see it being lifted into an arena, stabbed with a spear, set on fire in a bombing, destroyed by mutts. I see Effie pulling its name from a Reaping Bowl, and…I panic. I can’t move. I can’t…I can’t…I can’t even think about it.” I can feel her heart pounding, as I lower my fingers to her wrist, checking her pulse.

“The games are over,” I say softly, altering my usual speech slightly as I go. “The mutts are destroyed. The war is over. Snow is dead. Coin is dead. Your mother is safe. Haymitch is safe. I am safe, and Prim is somewhere were no one can hurt her ever again. You are here, in my arms, and you can have whatever kind of life you want to have, whether it’s living in my arms forever, or bring another life into this world. No one will be reaped. I might not be able to promise nothing will put us in danger ever again, but _if_ that day comes, it won’t be the Hunger Games. It won’t be like it was before.

“Annie said her baby gave her something to live for…” Katniss whispers. “That she could look at him whenever she questioned why Finnick made the decisions he did, and just know.” I nod.

“That’s what she told me when I last spoke to her about it,” I confirm.

“But all I can do is think about everything that could go wrong. If I do this…we could lose it, but if I don’t…I could lose you.”

“You could never lose me.” I say firmly. “Never. Not even if you tried, and there were days where we both know you were trying.” I shudder a little, thinking of the time after our first Hunger Games, before the Victory Tour.

“When you say things like that, it makes me feel like you deserve this. How can I not give you what you want?”

“What I want is for you get out of those restraints. If you really want to give me what I want, talk to Dr. Aurelius tomorrow.” My eyes are getting heavy. “I want you to want to live. I want you to not feel overcome by panic. I want to take you home.” She’s shaking her head.

“This is going to be a long one, Peeta,” she whispers.

“Then talk to the doctors. Just tell them what you told me. Take the first step.” I lean my head against her closing my eyes. “Try to rest.”

“I didn’t really help you, did I?”

“You did.” I say. “You’re playing out two scenarios in your head. You can only focus on the horrible side of each, so you see yourself as being trapped in an awful situation that you’ll never escape. If we choose a path, I think we can work on getting you to see the positive side of things.”

“So what are you going to do?”

“If it’s alright with you, I think we’re going to have a baby,” I sleepily moan, sliding my hands down from her shoulders. They settle on her abdomen. Her muscles tense for a moment before relaxing into me. Leaning into the familiar position as I trace my imaginary icing over the spot where our child is resting.

“Don’t think about Reapings,” I whisper to her. “Just imagine a little girl, with your hair and eyes, eating a cheese bun.” She lets out a sigh.

“Little boy, with your blond hair and blue eyes, and a bow and arrow,” she responds. “The miniature ones, like my father used to make me when I was a kid.” I nod.

“Just picture it…no reapings, no games, no Snow, no Coin, no cameras. Just the three of us.” She inhales deeply.

“What if that’s not what happens?”

“Be brave,” I say. “Trust everything you’ve already done to make the world safer. Trust Paylor to keep the peace, like she has for five years. Trust me, to do whatever it takes to keep you both safe. Trust Dr. Birk and Dr. Clora to take good care of you. Trust Dr. Aurelius to support us and help you through.”

“What if my body can’t support it?”

“Have you been listening to Birk? He and Clora both don’t see any reasons you can’t deliver a healthy baby. All the problems are mental Katniss. I’ll take care of everything I can. You just need to take care of yourself, by sleeping and talking to Dr. Aurelius.”

“Sleeping,” she mummers, her head lulling a little.

“Close your eyes,” I mummer back. “Dream soft dreams. I’m right here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like this has been the longest I've gone without updating. It's been a difficult week, and the next few are going to be equally hectic, so I apologize in advance if it's another week or so before I update. If people leave reviews I might feel more motivated to make time to edit and update. So far all the feedback has been amazing!


	8. Chapter 8: A Worrying Parent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings: Brief mention of abortion and a short narration of paralyzing panic.

I wake up the next morning, but pause before opening my eyes. I don’t want to move. It’s the first time I’ve felt Katniss’ warm body pressed against me in the morning in days. A smile plays across my face as I lightly circle my hand over the spot where our baby is. A feeling of complete joy followed by mild panic overcomes me. I’m going to be a father. I try to recall the way my own father behaved, imagining what he might say if he could see me now. It’s hard to imagine since I haven’t spoken to him in five years. The closest thing I’ve had to a father figure these days is…I groan. What’s that smell?

“We having a baby then?” his voice cuts through the still morning air. It’s slurred so he’s clearly drunk, but there’s something else there…like excitement. I open my eyes and see Haymitch standing at the foot of the bed, the open flask in his right hand. His eyes are fixed on my fingers, which are still drawing light circles on Katniss’ stomach. I stop. Katniss sits up a little.

“No, Haymitch,” Katniss, yawns as she speaks. “ _We_ are not having a baby. _Peeta and I_ are having a baby, and _you_ are having a drink.”

“Looks like your backbone regrew overnight sweetheart.”

I shift slightly underneath Katniss, bending my prosthetic, which has become stiff during the night. It makes a slight cracking noise. She moves as though she wants to stroke it, massage it, they way she normally does, but her hands are caught by the restraints. She looks at them as if she’d forgotten they were there. Then upon remembering her predicament she slumps back, all the fight gone out of her muscles, and the full weight of her body resting against my chest. I squeeze her a little trying to be encouraging.

“If you lean up, I’ll get out and get Dr. Aurelius. We can talk about getting those restraints off…Will you talk to him?” I whisper lightly into her ear so Haymitch can’t hear. She doesn’t answer, but she leans forward and I awkwardly wriggle out from behind her. My prosthetic cracks again, as I straighten my knee. Katniss winces at the sound, but I walk past her. Haymitch settles on the couch, turns on the TV, and begins flicking through the channels, going on about some political controversy, searching for one of the news broadcast.

I find Dr. Aurelius by the coffee machine. He looks surprised to see me out of Katniss’ room. I normally only leave for the bathroom or a shower. He sets down his paper cup and turns to me.

“I decided,” I begin. He smiles in relief. “She’s staying pregnant.”

“You’re sure?”

“Positive.” The word makes my stomach clench with nerves, remembering the home pregnancy test. I make a mental note to get rid of it before Katniss comes home.

“We should arrange for a more through examination with Dr. Clora then.”

“Shouldn’t we take this slow…make sure she can handle it?” I ask. He sighs, picks up his cup, and take a big swig. “I mean it’s best for both of them if she’s under as little stress as possible right?”

“Of course, but I can only assess whether or not she’s ready if she talks to me,” he states plainly.

“I asked her to talk to you,” I reply. “Can you give a try? She came to a little last night and was able to explain to me what she’s feeling. I told her she doesn’t have to tell you anything new, just what she told me last night.”

“That would at least be a start,” he agrees. “I’ll give it a shot.” We walk back down the hall, and find her and Haymitch, watching the television. I recognize Cesar Flickerman on the screen, interviewing Johanna Mason. My heart sinks, remembering that he is doing a tour of the districts to talk to all the old victors about how they’re doing five years after the rebellion. He’s scheduled to arrive in Twelve in three days. In my panic about Katniss, I had forgotten we agreed to the interview. Plutarch had begged. Haymitch turns the TV off, practically growling.

“Can you call Plutarch about canceling?” I ask. He grumbles. Dr. Aurelius seems to agree though.

“You can use the phone at the nurse’s station if you like,” he offers. “I need to talk to Katniss anyway.” Haymitch gets up, and I stand awkwardly at the back of the room. As the door closes, the doctor sits down. “Would you like Peeta to stay?” he asks Katniss. She makes eye contact with me and nods slowly. I cross the room and take the seat next to her bed. She allows me to take her hand, and I begin to draw circles on it.

“Has Peeta told you the decision he’s come to?” She nods again, a soft tear falling down her cheek. “How do you feel about it?”

“Scared,” she croaks. It’s the first word she’s spoken to him since he arrived here from the Capitol. He smiles at her encouragingly.

“What are you afraid of?”

“Reaping,” she whispers. She seems to only be able to say one word at a time. It’s clear she’s almost paralyzed with panic. I stroke her thumb with my own.

“Would you rather have an abortion?” She shakes her head tears sliding down her face, clutching my hand firmly.

“Can’t…” she gulps. “Peeta…”

“I’m right here,” I tell her, reaching out with my free hand and tracing her jaw line. She rests her cheek against my palm. She doesn’t say anything though. She just inhales the scent of my fingers, tears drifting down her face.

“I want to be upfront with both of you,” he pauses looking at our faces. “I’d be reluctant to discharge you Katniss, even if your mental state improved. The beginning of this pregnancy, something you’ve always feared above all else, has been rocky to say the least. I’m concerned that if you return home and relapse you’d be risking both your health and that of your unborn child. I would like to look into transferring you to a facility where we could more closely monitor your medical and psychological needs throughout the pregnancy and possibly for a little while beyond.”

I suck in my breath. Not being able to take Katniss home until the baby was born…the idea fills me with guilt at how selfish I am being. It seems as though Dr. Aurelius can read my mind.

“I would have recommended this no matter what decision you had come to,” he says firmly, staring straight into my eyes. “Unplanned pregnancy can be…damaging and has caused relapses into people with mental challenges far less difficult than your own. This could be a good thing. Doctors would always be on hand if there was a problem. I would be available in case Katniss becomes more distressed as the pregnancy progresses and becomes more apparent. We could protect you from the horror of having to talk to Cesar Flickerman,” he adds, chuckling a little. I glance at Katniss. Her eyes are focused on Dr. Aurelius, but her expression is blank.

“If you’d be on hand…might I ask where this facility is?” I asked. His gaze dropped down to the floor briefly before looking back up.

“The only facility I would feel comfortable recommending is in the Capitol.”

“No.” I say firmly.

“Now Peeta, you have to listen to reason. This place specializes in treating people who have experienced trauma. Most of the other Victors have been there at least once. We could get you both a more comfortable living arrangement. You would never have to leave the facility if you did not wish to, and there would be the best doctors and psychologists available at the push of a button.” Even these luxuries sound tainted. They are being offered because of who we are. As both Victors and key rebels Katniss and I still hold a certain position outside of District 12. One we have been too happy to ignore, but on our rare outings to other Districts, the remembrance vigil on the one year anniversary of the fall of the Capitol, Joanna Mason’s surprise party and a week last summer with Annie in four, people have stared, whispered, even reached out to us. Whenever this would happen, Katniss would withdraw and easily become flustered. In the Capitol people had openly wept before her about Prim’s death, seeking her comfort almost, and she had fled back into the Training Center, refusing to come out till it was time to go home.

“We can’t go back to the Capitol,” I state. “The trauma of going back to that place where it all…” I trail off, not wanting to upset Katniss.

“You wouldn’t have to see any of it,” he hurriedly tells me. “We can take you through different routes. We can get you to the facility without you seeing anything you’d recognize, nowhere where anything significant happened. I could even sedate Katniss if it’s needed.”

“How would taking her away from the people and doctor’s she knows be more helpful? It’d be too much stress.”

“Haymitch would be welcome to join us of course, and I can arrange for other friendly faces to be present. Ms. Trinket would love to see you both, I’m sure, and Katniss’ old prep team is doing very well last time Plutarch and I spoke.” I stare at him. I had never even thought about Effie, still somewhere in the Capitol. I hadn’t seen her since before the Quarter Quell. The image of her getting us ready for interviews popped through my head.

“The media,” I said slowly. Dr. Aurelius looked down.

“Yes well…that does pose a problem.”

“What’s to stop them from getting wind of us being the Capitol.”

“Confidentiality is…” but he can’t finish the sentence. It happened before when Annie relapsed. Aurelius had tried to bring her back to the Capitol to probably the same facility, and the friend of a nurse had seen her. Plutarch had fired everyone who printed the story, but it had gotten out and soon Capitol citizens, the sick ones who missed the games, were pressed up against the door to the place, trying to get a glimpse of a mad victor.

“Listen to me,” he says leaning forward, making unblinking eye contact with me. “I have been treating both of you for five years, and I’ve come to care about you a lot. When you got married only a year after the rebellion I didn’t say anything, and when Haymitch asked if he should stop you, I said no. You were both only nineteen or eighteen, but I let you make the decision to be together.” I wince at his words, remembering Haymitch’s insistence we hold off on the marriage. We’d held the toasting that night without his blessing. I’ve still never seen him that angry.

“But you’re both still very young, only twenty two, and whether you like to admit it or not you’re still recovering.”

“You make us sound like irresponsible teenagers,” Katniss snaps, speaking a full sentence in front of him for the first time since his arrival.

“I do not mean to, but Katniss, this pregnancy was clearly unplanned and you have not demonstrated that you possess the emotional stability needed to deal with this on your own. You’re going to need a lot of help, and as good as Haymitch’s intentions are I do not think you two can handle a pregnancy and a baby with only him as your support system.” It’s hard to argue with that. Just the day before we rushed Katniss to the hospital, he’d come into our house drunk out of his mind, screaming about how the geese were Game Maker mutts, and that they were plotting against him. He’d vomited all over the entryway and passed out.

“It wouldn’t be forever,” the doctor continues. “You finish the pregnancy in the Capitol, learn all about being parents, have the baby, get a few weeks practice, and come home. You wouldn’t have to worry about anything.” I raise an eyebrow at him.

“There would be no way to come home before the baby is born?” asks Katniss.

“Consider me a worrying parent. I’d feel better if you both stayed until the little one is at least a few weeks old,” he says, trying to sound casual, but I can hear the undertone in his voice. I understand. He’s already worried about post partum depression. I glance at Katniss, and have to resist the urge to shutter at the thought of taking care of her and a newborn baby, if she were to slip into one of her depressive episodes. Tears are slowly sliding down her cheeks as she stares pointedly above both our heads. I look back to the doctor and nod silently without her seeing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has reviewed! I'm loving it and you all should keep it coming! I think this update was a little faster. It's going to be a crazy couple of weeks, so I'll see what I can do as far as keeping everyone entertained and well read!


	9. Chapter 9: Try not to Withdraw

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings: Mention of Anxiety and Depression and issues eating
> 
> This chapter is actually very tame.

“I just don’t want you to feel like you have to go,” I snap at Haymitch. He’s been grumbling about going stay in the Capitol indefinitely for the past two months. I have been listening to hours of him whining about the geese and what would they do without him, and who would keep Sae company. We are back at Katniss and I’s home in Victor’s Village and he sits on the bed with his suitcase at his feet, as I toss things haphazardly into our old luggage from the Victory Tour. I stare blankly at Katniss’ closet not knowing what to pack. In the time it took for Dr. Aurelius to arrange for the lifting of her court ordered confinement in 12, her transfer, and our transportation to the Capitol, she has started to show. Somehow it doesn’t seem like the clothes Cinna designed will fit her anymore. I smile, remembering the slight puckering of her skin, barely noticeable, but I have been watching carefully, waiting for our new addition to make its presence known.

“Of course I have to come,” Haymitch replies angrily. He puffs up his chest importantly. “I’m supposed to be your mentor, aren’t I?”

“We’re twenty two,” I remind him. “We’re not two terrified sixteen year olds in an arena anymore.”

“Of course you aren’t. We wouldn’t be in this predicament if you were. That cave was probably the most chaste I’ve ever see you two.” I snort, looking through Katniss’ clothes trying to find something with a little bit of give. We might need to talk to Aurelius about maternity clothes. “Even during the Quarter Quell, if that lightening hadn’t hit that tree when it did, you’d probably have wound up giving all of Panem a free sex show on that beach.” I throw a hanger at him.

“You’ve been whining so much about coming. It’s been nonstop for two months,” I remind him. “No one is making you.” I pull out her hunting pants. They’re worn and hopefully will be a little flexible around the waist. I grab a few large button ups as well, folding them neatly as I go. “Stay if you want. Take care of your geese. Get drunk with Sae, make a baby of your own, I don’t care.”

“What and just let you down all the good booze in the Capitol alone?” he demands. He’d said originally he would only come for the free alcohol. Victor’s in the Capitol can have anything they want, no charge, but I don’t buy it. He comes to the hospital everyday, talking softly to Katniss, watching television with her while I nap or shower, brining us cheese buns from the bakery. This morning when he stopped by, they were helping Katniss get out of bed for a physical, and his eyes fell across her slightly swollen stomach. I spotted the smile, which was quickly replaced by a scowl when he saw me looking.

“Stop complaining then.” Every piece of clothing I think might fit her for at least the next month or so is sitting in a suitcase next to its identical twin, stuffed with my clothes. He mumbles, outraged as he takes another swig from his flask. “We need to go,” I remind him checking the time. We’re supposed to be on the train in an hour. Dr. Birk and Dr. Aurelius are taking her. Dr. Birk is to travel with us to the Capitol and sign the transitional paper work. Dr. Clora gave Katniss her final examination this morning and will be sending all the information to the facility in the Capitol.

I lock the house behind me. Sae will be coming to care for it while we’re gone, but she has a key. I briefly consider asking her to baby proof the house, but decide to hold off. It’s early yet, and while everyone keeps telling me things are going to okay and I keep telling Katniss things are going to be okay, I can’t shake a slight feeling on anxiety. Her mental state seems so fragile. For the past two months she’s been crying for hours at a time, eating sporadically, and sometimes going days without seeming to be aware anyone is near her. The first week after it was decided we’d be going to the Capitol, Clora and Birk had needed to keep her hydrated and functioning with an IV. Clora had deep frown lines on her forehead, and has taken to performing ultrasounds every four days. I still can’t bring myself to look at the image, but I close my eyes and let the baby’s heart beat wash over me. Every time the ultrasound would end the same way.

“Things are fine for now, but the longer you go without consistent food, the more likely things are to take a turn. Keep eating.” Then she’d leave the room. Whenever we had an ultrasound done Katniss would eat a little bit more and a little bit more, but it still didn’t seem to be enough.

I shoo the geese away, as Haymitch starts towards the gate, banging his suitcase against the ground. I follow carefully carrying the two in my hands behind him. We make it to the train station just as Dr. Birk pulls up in the hospital car. He smiles as he gets out, and opens the back door. Katniss emerges, wearing sweat pants and a tank top, under her father’s hunting coat. It covers her slightly larger stomach almost perfectly. Dr. Aurelius pops out of the car from the other side and walks around to her. He places a hand on her shoulder and we all make our way towards the train. A Capitol attending pops open a back door for us and we enter. We have been granted the medical compartment of the train, which has space for doctors, patients and family members. It’s removed from the rest of the passengers giving us privacy. The attending takes everyone’s luggage, and Dr. Birk helps Katniss back toward the patient transit room. I follow.

It’s drearier than the last room. Nothing but a bed, white walls, one chair and machines. I spot the restraints on the bed, but he does not strap her into them. Dr. Aurelius gave consent to have them removed about six weeks ago, but they’re always kept close at hand, just in case. Katniss is chewing on her lips as she’s directed towards the bed. She takes off her jacket and slides under the covers and lies back, taking deep breathes.

“Anxious?” I ask. She nods. “That’s okay.” I tell her trying to keep my own nerves out of my voice. We did not have a good history with trains. Her bed is propped up again, so she’s mostly sitting. As Dr. Birk leaves to get settled, I climb behind her. She relaxes back into my chest, and I wrap my arms around her stomach. She placed her hands on top of mine, resting lightly on her abdomen.

“You noticed?” She asks. I smile a little, knowing she was talking about the hardly detectable bump, which is now resting safely under my palm. I nod into her hair.

“How do you feel?” I ask.

“Nauseas,” she answers. “Drained. It’s like my limbs are lead.” Aurelius had said fatigue was common in people dealing with server anxiety and depression. I doubt she can summon the energy to get out of bed even if she wants to. She has reverted back to her old self, the girl trying to recover from the catastrophe that was Mockingjay. She only speaks to me or occasionally Haymitch. She can still only manage short one-word answers to Aurelius, and whenever Birk is in the room she can barely look at him. Clora at least she had made eye contact with.

“All normal,” I remind her. She nods.

“How are you?” I don’t want to answer. I don’t want to tell I’m worried, terrified I’ve made a decision that will cost me both my child and my wife. I can’t put my own fears on her now, but she seems to sense them in my hesitation. “If you want me to get better, you can’t treat me like I’m going to break at any moment. It infuriates me, you know.”

“I know,” I respond. We have had this conversation many times over the years. She has always insisted that people treating her as if she is insane and broken is what makes her feel insane and broken. So I answer honestly. “I’m just worried.”

“About me?”

“About all of it.” I don’t want to directly mention my fear of how her own mental state is affecting the baby. “Just promise me…promise me, you’ll at least try to let them help. That you’ll try not to withdraw.” She doesn’t respond.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, I confess, this is a little bit of a filler, but it's been two months. I felt the need to cover what had been happening between them agreeing to go to the Capitol and them going. The next chapter is anything but a filler, and I'll hopefully have it up soon. I'm moving this week though, so I might not have time. I apologize in advance if it takes a while.


	10. Chapter 10: Not Real

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: Flashbacks, delirium, mental breakdown (including brief mention of self harm) and brief description of an physical attack.

Haymitch and I are sharing a room for family members. There are two beds, but it still doesn’t seem big enough. He hasn’t showered for at least three or four days, and I’m starting to wonder why no one at the hospital stopped him from coming in, seeing as how he’s a living-breathing bacteria transporting machine. He’s also drunk. I haven’t seen him drunk since before Katniss was hospitalized. I’m sure he has been drunk, but he just always came to see us at least mildly sober.

“You know boy, I always told her…” he slurs to me, chugging from his flask as he sits on his bed. “I always told her, she could live a hundred lifetimes and not deserve you.”

“That’s a horrible thing to tell someone Haymitch,” I snap back. I miss Katniss. We haven’t slept in the same bed in months. I’ve been sleeping on the couch in her room, and though I’m only three feet away, the distance seems impossible to close. Now, sitting on this small twin size bed, listening to the ramblings of a disturbed drunk, I miss the great space of my bed at home and the feeling of being tangled in my wife’s limbs and hair.

“And then, you run off and marry her,” he continues as if I hadn’t spoken. “Run off and marry her, even though she was mentally unstable and I told you not to…I told you not to,” he repeats staring off into space. “I knew this would happen you know.” He’s getting smug now.

“Knew what exactly?”

“That you’d slip.” He’s smiling. “That if you two got married, it wouldn’t be long till you were lulled into a false sense of security. You’d think you were doing better, healing even. In reality though you’d both just be surviving a little bit better each day through a combination of complete dependence and nothing too terrible happening. You’d think you were safe or better and you wouldn’t be as careful as you needed to be.”

“Shut up Haymitch,” I growl.

“Of course, maybe you did it on purpose. It seems so convenient. She’s been saying no to kids for as long as I’ve known her, but here she is pregnant, because you chose to leave her that way. Because you just _happened_ to forget to run a simple errand and some rain just _happened_ to keep you both in bed for days and days and days. What luck for you. I never pegged you for a manipulator.”

I’m so over come with rage, I don’t registered what my hands are doing until my fists are pounding into his face. My heart is racing as blood spills from his nose. I feel something besides adrenaline coursing through me. Something familiar that is seeping into my brain like poison. My muscles tense as I sense the threat, its presence. Haymitch is letting out yelps of pain, trying to stop the flow of blood, and I hear footsteps coming from down the hall.

The train is taking me to that place. Images flash through my mind of people standing over me in lab coats, and I know the footsteps are people who have come to kill me. I lunge out of the door, and see a figure standing at the end of the hall. Upon seeing me the man whips around and locks the door he was standing in front of. I race towards him screaming hands out stretched to choke him. He’s with the Capitol. He’s trying to take her from me. He killed my family. He’s replaced her with a mutt that I have to kill.

“Not real,” he says to me firmly. I lunged for him dodges me, and manages to get past me. He’s running now down the hall, and the door I left open, snaps shut, and with a click Haymitch and the man are now locked in a compartment leaving me in the hallway. I look through the window of the door the man had locked before running. I see her. Except it’s not her. It’s the mutt they replaced her with. It’s awake and staring at me wide eyed and fearful because it knows that I know what it is, and that I’m going to kill it. I bang on the door.

“OPEN THE DOOR!!”

“Not real Peeta!” it screams to me and I begin banging on it with my fists, hoping to break the glass. It keeps screaming, getting louder and louder over my pounding fists, “Not real! Not real! NOT REAL!!”

“What did you do to her!!” I holler.

“Nothing Peeta!! I’m right here. It’s me!!” The thing is out of bed now approaching the door. It’s wearing the same tank top and sweat pants she was wearing earlier, and I can see the beginning of a bump. If they took her what happened to the baby?

“What did you do to the baby?” I scream at it. It jumps and begins to cry, halting its progress towards the door, towards me.

“N-Nothing,” it chokes out to me.

“LIAR!” I holler. “You’re lying! You did something to it! You’re not her! She wouldn’t do this!”

“Do what?” it asks, voice quivering.

“Put our baby in danger like this! Refuse to eat, to talk about it! She wouldn’t be so selfish as to put its life in danger! What did you do to her!! To the baby!!” The mutt collapses on the floor tears streaming down its face. It’s got its arms wrapped around the fake baby bump. I let out a scream of fury and manage to finally break the glass on window in the door, when I feel the stab of a needle in my shoulder. I slump forward and the world drifts away from me.

***

I hear the muttering in my dreams. _Not real, not real, not real, not real, not real._ Over and over and over again. I see images flashing before me. Katniss turning into a tracker jacker and coming towards me. Katniss standing above me in a haze of silver begging me not to die. Katniss pushing me into the chemical ridden fog. Katniss crying over me, as my heart begins to beat again. Finnick looking over her shoulder, terrified. Katniss mercifully ending Finnick’s life as the mutts pull him under. Her weeping face as Prim burns alive. I feel her body pressed against mine at night, clinging to me, begging me not to let her slip away. _Real_.

I become aware of the soft cushioning underneath me, and feel the warmth of covers pressed over me. The fabric is soft and smells clean. I burrow in deeper, not wanting to remember how I wound up here, but I hear the muttering again, coming from near by, and it sounds so distressed, my blood begins to pound again.

“Not real. Not real. Not real. Not real. Not real. Not real. Not real. Not real. Not real. Not real. Not real.” It’s a constant desperate stream, from someone clearly clinging to a semblance of reality and losing her grip. I open my eyes. I’m in a bed, lying flat on my back, sunlight drifting in from the large windows along the wall that runs parallel to were I rest now. Outside them I see a rows of trees and flowers occupying a courtyard along with a water fountain. The room itself has bookshelves and comfortable looking couches and tables. The walls are a soft off white that is clean, comforting and homey all at once. The bedspread is a deep blue, as is the upholstery on the couch and chairs and the table and books shelves are made of a dark wood.

I sit up a little and bring my hands to my forehead. I feel a growing lump on it and note how every inch of my body aches. I feel my hands, covered in bandages and become aware of a faint stinging underneath the sterile cloth. The images of shattering glass comes to mind. I must have cut myself badly. As I recall the image of the breaking glass, I also suddenly remember the screaming crying woman standing behind it, and begin looking around for her.

Katniss is lying on a bed between my own the wall of windows. Her eyes are closed and she’s muttering, “Not real. Not real. Not real. Not real. Not real. Not real. Not real. Not real. Not real. Not real. Not real,” over and over and over again. There are bandages covering her arms again and part of her neck. I see a light scratch mark on her face and realize her hands are once more occupying restraints. I sit up, my heart aching at the sight of her. I stand up and start to move towards her. I can’t bring myself to touch her though. I remember the things I screamed at her. A deep sense of shames overwhelms and suddenly I feel like my limbs weigh a thousand pounds. I collapse into the chair next to her, and find myself unable to comfort her. I can’t even control my own emotions. Instead I sit and rock back and forth on the chair next to her bed, crying uncontrollably, as her whispers fill the room.

“Not real. Not real. Not real. Not real. Not real. Not real. Not real. Not real. Not real. Not real. Not real.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has been reviewing! I love it! I'm all moved now, and I am sorry about the wait for this update. I honestly don't even know how long it has been, but I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I'll have the next one up sooner!


	11. Chapter 11: Don't Say That Please

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings: Slightly more graphic discussion of abortion, mention of self harm, and panic attacks.

“Get up.” The growl sounds distant to me, and I wrinkle my nose against an unpleasant smell. I ignore the command. “Get up!” It’s more insistent now, and it sounds closer. “Damn it Peeta! Get up!!” I open my eyes. I’m still in the chair next to Katniss. My knees pressed into my chest. She’s still in bed, still muttering, and I screw up my face, trying to block out the sound. Haymitch is standing over me, and I notice Dr. Birk adjusting an IV drip on the other side of the bed. Dr. Aurelius is standing in the doorway. I don’t ask what happened. I remember.

“I just need your signature on these transfer documents. The practicing physician is Dr. Rincher. He’ll be in to see you in an hour or so with the OBGYN, Dr. Ninda. After the ultrasound, Rincher is planning to administer a sedative.” I nod slowly. As I sign the papers my hands shake. I clasp Dr. Birk’s hand and thank him for the help. He nods and claps me on the shoulder, before leaving to catch his train back to District 12.  

“Peeta,” begins Aurelius. “I’d like to talk to you.” I nod, dejectedly and get up.

Haymitch takes my seat and gives Katniss’ hand a little squeeze as I leave the room.

“Not real. Not real. Not real. Not real. Not real. Not real. Not real. Not real. Not real. Not real. Not real,” she mutters more intensely now in response to the noise. I close the door and feel my muscles relax a little, now that her whispers have been cut off. Dr. Aurelius turns to me.

“She had a fit after we knocked you out. She went on screaming about how she couldn’t do any of it. That the whole thing was a mistake. She….she begged us to cut it out.” This last sentence leaves his lips reluctantly. I feel as if I’m going to collapse. I’ve been so selfish. Letting her stay pregnant was a terrible mistake. I’m shaking my head.

“Is it too late to end this?”

“Yes,” says Aurelius dully. “You made this decision Peeta. The only thing we can do now is let the pregnancy flow through it’s natural course.” I could cut it out of her myself. I could do it, but the second I think of taking a knife to Katniss I feel the tracker-jacker venom begin to pound. I can’t do it. If I were to even cut her a little bit, my hijacked brain would take over. I would kill her. There is no escape. I’ve trapped us in this terrible situation. My body begins to shake as I lean against the wall outside of Katniss’ room. I slide down it, till I’m on the floor. I can’t breath.

“Peeta, I need you to pull yourself together,” he says urgently. “I know normally I don’t advice patients to push their feelings aside, but after your last attack Katniss became so hysterical I didn’t know if she’d survive. I’ve never seen a patient scream like that in all my years practicing. If you fall apart now, she’ll miscarry for sure.” I take deep breaths as he speaks, trying to get my limbs under control. They’re shaking violently, and I’m starting to hyperventilate.

“Would you like me to get you medication?” The question throws me. I haven’t taken medication in years. Not since we were in District 13, and then it was only to get me to sit still and calm long enough to make it through a therapy session or to watch old footage of Katniss and myself. It made my mind feel foggy. I shake my head, and continue running through the breathing exercises he taught me.

“Where…where do we go from here?” I ask, feeling better, but not daring to move from the floor.

“We wait for the OBGYN to see if the baby is alright. In the mean time I need to start Katniss on antidepressants. We’ll keep her restrained until such a time that I am confident she won’t hurt herself. She’ll need to meet with me multiple times a day. I’ll draw up a schedule for her. It’s important she have and maintain a routine. If she’s feeling up for it, down the line you can take her on walks around the premises. There’s a pool to swim in, and a library. Annie will be here in a few weeks for a check up. I’ve requested she leave her son in District 4 though. I’m worried seeing him could trigger Katniss. “

“And if the baby is not alright?” I ask shakily.

“We do those things either way. If the baby isn’t alright we’ll do a physical exam to see if she can maintain future pregnancies, and I’ll give her a different kind of antidepressant and something for the anxiety as well. We also might look into sedatives for the nights. If the baby is alright, I won’t be able to give her as much medication. She’ll need to see a nutritionist as well, and you’ll talk to Effie Trinket about maternity clothes.” I nod slowly, feeling numb, not sure which option would be better at this point.

“I also think it’s necessary for me to start seeing you again on a regular basis.” Our sessions have been decreasing in frequency these last few years. While I used to talk to him daily we now speak maybe once every three to two weeks. My flashbacks have been decreasing.

“You’re worried I’ll be getting more attacks?”

“Partially. You are more likely to have them when you are in stressful situations, but I’m also concerned with how you’re coping emotionally. Seeing someone you love pregnant and in this much pain would be disturbing for anyone.” I nod. “So, I’d like to start Katniss medication now, and we can begin the therapy sessions for both of you after Dr. Ninda’s examination.” I nod again, and he extends a hand. I take it and brace myself as I get back on my feet. We walk back into Katniss’ room. Her voice has dropped again and she’s muttering. Haymitch is still holding her hand and stroking her hair. He doesn’t hear us come in, so I catch some of his whispers to her.

“That’s right sweetheart, it wasn’t real. He didn’t mean any of it. It wasn’t real,” he comforts her softly. Aureluis comes up behind him and pats him on the shoulder. His whispers stop, and he turns to see the therapist behind him and me, standing in the doorway. “If you want her to talk or at least stop muttering, I think she’ll need a moment with the boy,” he grumbles.

“I was thinking the same thing,” Aurelius agreed. “Haymitch why don’t you wait outside. I need to run for a prescription anyway. Peeta, you stay here and say whatever comes to mind,” he tells me kindly. I move into the room, and they both brush past me. The door closes softly, and I’m left alone with my muttering wife. I slowly make my way back to the chair beside her bed, but find myself feeling sick at the thought of sitting down in it again. Instead I perch myself awkwardly on the side of her bed and take her hand.

“Katniss,” I begin softly. She draws in a breath, pausing the relentless muttering. “Katniss,” I say again. Her lips are still moving but no sound is coming out. “Katniss,” I say a third time, giving her hand a squeeze. Her eyes open. It takes them a moment to focus. She stares at me, drinking in the sight of me and my bandages, and then she begins to sob hysterically. I bend down and put my face right next to hers, cupping it with my hands.

“It’s okay,” I whisper. “It’s okay. It wasn’t real. It was an attack. I’m so sorry, Katniss, but it’s over now. It’s over. It wasn’t real. It wasn’t me. It was Capitol Peeta, and remember what we always say. He’s not real. What he says is not real.” I wipe away the tears on her face as I stare into her eyes. We never break eye contact and I tell her again and again, “Not real.” However my mantra is not desperate and breathy like hers. It’s grounded firm and confident. Finally her breathing slows and her tears stop.

“We can’t…We can’t do this,” she whispers to me. “We’re not ready for this.” I bite my lip.

“There’s no way out Katniss. We can’t terminate the pregnancy without hurting you, possibly beyond repair, and the doctors won’t do it.” She’s shaking her head at my words.

“But…But…But…we can’t do this. I’m…I can’t…I can’t stop trying to hurt myself, and you…with the attacks. We can’t be parents. We can’t protect a baby. We can’t even protect…I couldn’t even protect…. and she was fourteen…she wasn’t helpless.” She’s cut off as tears overcome her once more. I wipe them away and kiss her forehead.

“That was the war Katniss. It’s different now. We just need to learn and to be supported. That’s why we’re here. We’re here to get the help we need. To learn how to take care of a baby and ourselves. To get our process of healing back on track. We’ll get ready. We have help,” I tell her firmly as I kiss her forehead again, “Because Katniss, it’s too late. We have to do this.”

“We could end it ourselves,” she suggests desperately. I shake my head.

“Do you remember last year, when you cut yourself while skinning that rabbit?’ Her knife had slipped and she wound up accidentally slicing a two inch long cut down her thigh. She’d been fine, but when she went into the house to get me, seeing her covered in blood triggered a flashback. I’d wound up lunging for her throat. She’d only just managed to get out of the house and run to get Haymitch, covered in blood. “If we did it ourselves, the trauma of you losing the baby and the blood….I’d wind up killing you Katniss.”

“What if…I…did…it…without…you,” she stutters. Panic over powers me and I grip her shoulder tightly.

“Don’t!” I say firmly. Her eyes widen at my reaction. “Don’t you dare! Not…You…Just don’t!” I haven’t spoken to her like this since our first games when she wanted to go to the feast to get my medicine. “I won’t allow you to hurt yourself Katniss! Just seeing you with the scratches is…” a sob escapes my chest, and I clutch her even harder. “If you caused enough harm to yourself to cause a miscarriage…Please Katniss! You’ve been through too much trauma already. We both have.” She’s shaking. I don’t loosen my grip on her shoulder.

“I know it’s selfish,” I tell her. “But I can’t see you go through that. I won’t make it Katniss. I won’t.” She bites her lower lip, nodding to convey she understands. “I love you so much, and if I could take this all back I would,” I whisper to her.

“Don’t say that please,” she groans. I look at her. “If we’re going to do this, I need to know you want this. I need to know that you’ll be happy when it comes, because if you’re happy…I’d do anything for you. You know that right?” I smile at her and nod. She’s asking me to be happy, so she can draw strength from knowing that I’m getting what I always wanted, a child. She wants to be able to tell herself that she’s doing this for me. She needs a purpose for everything.

“If you haven’t miscarried already,” I whisper. “I’ll be happy.” She shakes her head.

“I haven’t,” she responds. “I know I haven’t. We’re both…fine.” As if on cue the door opens and Dr. Aurelius returns followed by a man and a woman who can only be Rincher and Ninda. They’re working together to push in the machine used for ultrasounds and I step aside. The man introduces himself and his colleague but I’m not paying attention. I watch the woman work and wait for the screen to come to life. It clicks on, and the image comes into focus as Ninda moves the wand over the top of Katniss’ stomach.

“There it is,” she simpers. Pointing to the screen. I lean in, looking at our baby, for the first time. “That outline there,” she says, tracing her fingers across the screen her eyes watching me closely, “and that’s the head.” My smile is automatic. It doesn’t look like a head, just a large peanut with extra lines. “Do we want to know the gender?” she asks. I jump and look back at Katniss. Her hands are still in restraints gripping the bed sheets. I try to give her a reassuring smile.

“Yes,” I say softly, and I don’t drop my eye contact with Katniss as Ninda speaks.

“It’s a girl!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I have officially started posting this on fanfiction.net. The responses on both sites so far have been good, and I am glad that everyone seems to be enjoying the story. Hopefully this chapter is less depressing than the last one. I don't want to be totally cruel. Keep giving me feedback!


	12. Chapter 12: Our Grandchild

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings: This chapter mentions alcoholism, nothing graphic though.

“I just can’t believe it! This is so exciting!!” Effie is bouncing around the room, one shopping bag in hand as she directs the Capitol attendings she brought in tow where to put the rest. The room has been filled to the brim with shopping bags of various pastel colors. “Of course when you called I went straight into action, no need to worry about anything!” We’d been in the Capitol for about a week, when I had finally broke down and had to call Effie. Katniss’ clothes were getting tight. I’d asked her to just go out and discreetly buy a few pieces of maternity clothes, just a couple, nothing too flashy, and she’d ignored me completely.

“I mean a baby,” she simpering, weaving her way between the bags that are strewn all over the floor. She pulls a chair up next to Katniss’ bed and bends to scoop up a bag at her feet. “I never thought this day would come! My little pearls from District 12 having a little girl, and I just could not resist!” She pulls little teddy bear out of the bag, with a pink ribbon around its neck and places it on Katniss’ bedside table. “Well what do you think?” She asks Katniss, Haymitch, and myself giving us the opportunity to speak for the first time since she waltzed in ten minutes ago.

Haymitch splutters incoherently as he stands in the doorway laden with bags as well. One of them has tipped over, covering him in pink glitter. I look around at all the bags filled with what I’m guess to be maternity clothing, baby clothing, books, toys, and really all the material things people from the Capitol seem to think small newborn babies need. The sheer volume of everything overwhelms me.

“It doesn’t seem like a little bit much?” I ask evenly.

“Much?” Effie repeats confused, “Why Peeta, these are just the pregnancy basics. A few toys here and there, some simple clothes, books on pregnancy, child rearing and nursing. I haven’t even started thinking about all the things you’ll need for when the baby actually arrives. It’ll be a whole other shopping trip! I was thinking about going and getting a few more toys but today had already been such a big big big day I just didn’t have the energy to find anything other than this little bear. She’s so cute! Right Katniss?”

Katniss hasn’t said a word since Effie entered. She’s still on suicide watch, which means someone has to be in the room with her at all times, but Aurelius took the restraints off a few days ago. She’s sitting up in bed, and her stomach is straining against her tank top. The nutritionist here in the treatment center changed her eating schedule and habits. Now that she’s back a close to normal diet, the baby has started growing more noticeably. The medication has been working somewhat well. She has at least been able to speak to Aurelius during their sessions, although she still does not carry on conversations with anyone except me usually.

Effie smiles good-naturedly at Katniss. She catches her hand as Katniss begins to play with the stitching on her bedspread. Tears are beginning to form in her eyes.

“Don’t you worry about a thing darling,” Effie whispers to her kindly. “I’m going to take care of everything. You won’t have to set foot outside of this place.” Then she begins to chuckle. “In fact, if I do my job right you won’t have to set foot outside of that bed until that little daughter of yours is ready to come out and greet us.” She’s on her feet again. She hits a button and one of the attendings appears again. She weighs him down with about half the bags, and instructs him on the washing, right down to the kind of detergent he is to use. Turning around, Effie begins on the other bags, pulling out a few new pairs of shoes and placing them in the closet, before starting to unload a lot of heavy looking books with titles like, “Anxiety and Pregnancy,” or “Beyond Morning Sickness,” onto the bookshelf beside the couch.

“You know,” Effie simpers, “I was thinking this might be the perfect opportunity for you too Haymitch.”

“For what?” Haymitch asks suspiciously, placing his three bags of books down beside her.

“The perfect opportunity for you to quit drinking,” she explains, as though this were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Excuse me?”

“Well think about it. You’re in a medical facility that is well known for treating Victors. They’re capable of providing any kind of treatment here, including rehabilitation, and when will you ever have a better motivation than to turn your life around than before our first grandchild comes into the world!”

Even for Effie this statement seems somewhat deluded. I myself don’t know where to begin. With the word rehabilitation or our or grandchild? Haymitch is spluttering again, clutching at his flask defensively.

“First off,” he begins, indigently. “Since when does my drinking bother anyone? Secondly you and I share nothing, and third _grandchild_!”

“Oh come now Haymitch, you don’t think of them as your children? Our little victors? I mean you were so protective of them when they were in both arenas, and you fought so hard to keep them alive while you were in District 13. Not to mention the fact that you practically brought them back from the dead after the war ended,” as she bustles around she pauses to kiss my forehead. “Don’t you agree Peeta? Doesn’t Haymitch just feel like a father?”

Following her question the most remarkable thing happens. It’s barely audible and the other two are too far away to hear it, what with the rustle of paper and bags as Effie unpacks things and Haymitch continues to make indignant noises on the couch. Katniss snorts. I turn to look at her, and see the corners of her mouth turn up into a barely detectable smile. She quickly covers her mouth with her hands, probably not wanting to offend Effie, but I make eye contact with her. It’s clear Katniss wants to laugh. I haven’t heard her laugh in months. A wicked grin crosses my own face.

“Of course this your grandchild Haymitch,” I declare, barely containing my own mirth. “You know how much Katniss and I adore you, what with your kind words and wonderful sense of hygiene. We were planning on teaching the baby to call you grandpa, and thought that you would take care of it just as well as you take care of the geese.”

“Capitol monsters!” he shrieks at the mention of his birds. A chuckle escapes Katniss now, more audibly this time. Haymitch jumps at the sound and stares at her. A look of relief and even joy passes over his face as he notices the smile.

“You see Haymitch,” Effie continues, clearly oblivious to the sarcasm in my tone. “You have a responsibility.” As she says the last word she seems to inflate with pride. “Katniss and Peeta are counting on you. Your granddaughter is counting on you, and I will personally see to it that you don’t let the three of them down.” With that she swoops down upon him and pulls the flask out of his hands. Her heels are clicking down the hallway moments later. Katniss is giggling uncontrollably now. With a roar of frustration Haymitch is tearing after our old escort.

“YOU’VE GOT SOMETHING ELSE COMING TO YOU EFFIE TRINKET! GIVE ME BACK THAT BOTTLE OR I SWEAR I WILL NEVER USE A UTENSIL IN FRONT OF YOU AGAIN!” Katniss and I are laughing full out now. The muscles in my face stretch uncomfortably. It’s been months since I’ve smiled for this long and this earnestly. It takes a few moments for us to calm down. As the smile fades from her expression, I reach out and pick up the bear sitting on her bedside table. I hold it up in front of my face and clear my throat.

“Hi Katniss,” I say in a squeaky voice, nodding the bear’s head up and down a little. The smile reappears on her face. “Who do you think would win in a fight Aunt Effie or Grandpa Haymitch?” Her smile widens, and I can see all her teeth now. She stretches out her hand, and I allow her to take the bear. She strokes its fake fur and places it lightly on her chest, it stays propped up against her stomach. She’s fingering the pink ribbon.

“A girl,” she says thoughtfully. I pause. This is the first time she’s brought up the pregnancy directly since our arrival. I nod happily as she glances at me though.

“With your hair and eyes eating a cheese bun,” I say, recalling the words I’d spoken with her to calm her after I’d decided she’d be staying pregnant. She nods.

“You’re okay with that? You didn’t want a boy?” I shake my head.

“It doesn’t matter to me. I just want a healthy wife and baby. She can have a tail for all I care, and she’d still be perfect.”

“Effie wouldn’t know where to find onesies with a tail hole,” Katniss retorts. I chuckle. There’s a knock on the door, and I look up to see the attending is back, with laundered clothes in hand. I stand to help him but he waves me off and goes about organizing the closet with the new clothes. He’s done in a matter of minutes and is gone. I stand and move towards the closet.

“Do you want to change?” I ask. “That tank top does not look comfortable, and it might placate Effie a bit.” She nods. I go to look through things but she cuts in.

“Let me.” I move back to the bed to help her up. She hasn’t gotten out of bed voluntarily in a while. Normally she’ll get up a few times a day to use the restroom or take a shower, but she usually isn’t out of bed for more than ten minutes before fatigue over comes her. With a hand in the small of her back, she braces the other in my hand as I reach around to her shoulders and help her to her feet, gripping her to keep her steady. Her swollen belly is undeniable now that we’re a few weeks into the second trimester.

Still holding my hand, she pads over to the dresser and begins to thumb through the clothes. I drop her hand, so she can use both and walk behind her. I wrap my arms around her belly and rest my chin on her shoulder. This serves two purposes, one she can lean on me while she’s standing to keep her from getting too tired, and two as she requested I’ve been letting my natural expecting father instincts and happiness shine through. Most fathers rub the belly, at least. I know a lot of them talk to it or read it stories. I make a mental note to as Effie to pick up some good storybooks, as my thumb rubs back and forth across her stomach.

“It’s barely showing you know,” she grumbles looking down at my hands.

“Do you want me to let go?” I ask, pressing a kiss into her shoulder.

“No,” she answers. “I miss you touching me.” I consider her words as I brush the hair to ones side of her neck. It hasn’t been braided in a while.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” I whisper lovingly. She normally needs a lot of time after an episode before she’s stable enough to be physically intimate. We pushed it too soon a few years ago, and she wound up having a panic attack right when I was about to enter her. The night ended with her sobbing on the floor in the shower behind a locked bathroom door while I desperately begged her to come out.

“Even when I’m having an episode though, we still share a bed. You hold me at night, and I fall asleep listening to your heartbeat. I miss you,” she whispers, running her fingers through my hair now. “I don’t want to sleep apart until after the baby comes.”

“I can talk to Aurelius. See if we can work something out,” I agree. “I miss you too.” Clothes in hands she politely steps out of my embrace.

“I think I need a shower.” She steps into the bathroom, and I wait patiently for her to reappear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I'm sorry if this seems a little short, but I thought this has been such a depressing story everyone could use a pick me up. This chapter was a little lighter, or it at least had more comic relief. Originally there was supposed to be more, but that less happy. Consider this as my gift to you. Please leave a review and let me know that this at least made you feel a little bit better.


	13. Chapter 13: Come Back to Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings: Panic Attacks, acknowledges that sex exists, mentions miscarriage.

Better?” I ask as she comes out of the bathroom wearing new pajamas. The bottoms are a pair of black leggings with an expandable stomach portion and the top is a flowing dark blue nightshirt with an empire waist. The sleeves are made of a soft silk material that comes down in waves till about her elbows. She nods and pulls her wet hair back as well. She’d showered and per the doctor’s instructions I’d waited in the just outside with the door open a crack, to allow her some privacy but to not leave her alone. Katniss sits down at the table where Haymitch and I typically eat.

Her hair is dripping wet. Wordless I stand behind her and begin to braid it. She showed me how years ago, the morning after we made love for the first time, the morning after she confirmed she loved me for the first time. Standing at the mirror, handling her hair, had felt like a more intimate act than the actual sex. I run my fingers through her hair now separating it into three pieces and beginning to weave it together. It is soft and wet from the shower beneath my touch.

“How are you feeling?” I ask, as I work on her hair.

“A little numb,” she whispers. “Like none of this is real. Every morning before I wake up I think we’re going to be home. That you’ve gotten up early to make breakfast. Then I feel the nausea and…I can’t look at my…” she jesters towards her body, and I understand. She can’t look at her stomach.

“Do you want me to get rid of the things Effie brought?”

“No,” she answers quickly. “Having you treat this like it’s really happening, is making me feel less like things are out of control.” I pause considering her words.

“Is it difficult? To let me handle things?” She doesn’t respond. “Because I know that trust has never come easily for you, and…I felt…feel like I no matter what I decide, I’m forcing something on you, like Coin or Snow.”

“You’re not forcing things on me Peeta. Not like them. You try to talk to me, to get me to help, but…I just can’t think straight. Every time I try to wrap my mind around it…my brain just hits a wall. I feel like if I deal with any of it…something so terrible will happen…I can’t even bare to think about it.” Her body is shaking slightly. Her braid completed, I run my hands over her shoulders, working on the knots in her muscles.

“Just breath. I’m here. I won’t let anything happen.” I kiss the top of her head. “Do you trust me?” We had worked on this for years since we’d gotten married. She still sometimes blushed at the confessions we’d share or tense when I touched her in intimate places, but it had become more and more fleeting over the years. I had always comforted her, reminding her I would never hurt her. She no longer needed to be so guarded against me. I would always stay with her. She didn’t need to ask anymore.

“Yes,” she whispers. “I trust you. I trust you with my life, my secrets, my body, my soul. I trust you to make the right decisions.”

“I don’t want to you know,” I mummer into her hair. “Come back to me.” She touches the end of the braid I just made. “Please,” I beg.

“It’s not that easy.” My eyes fill with tears. I know it’s not that easy. I understand. I’ve stood by her for five years and have seen her go through episodes before, never for this long or this server, but I know the drill.

“I know,” I answer. “I just…just miss you.” Before she can respond, Haymitch burst through the door panting. He’s sweating and clutched at his chest, his flask clasped in one had.

“Throw out…” He stops over come by a fit of wheezing. “Throw out all the silverware. Forks, knives, spoons! Everything! Pitch it!” He stumbles a little into the room, nearly falling over. As he straightens up, he drinks heavily from the flask. “None of us are to ever use them ever again!”

“That doesn’t seem hygienic,” I tell him, looking at him, as I pull my head up from Katniss’ hair. “It seems like it would be easier if you would just stop drinking.”

“I should beat you to within an inch of your life,” he growls. “And you!” he snaps at Katniss making her jump. “Of all the things you choose to find funny, Effie referring to…” he points vaguely towards her stomach, clearly not sure if the word will set her off, “as a grandchild, is what makes you laugh?” She cracks a grin at the memory. “Oh don’t’ give me that,” Haymitch continues. “You haven’t chuckled in weeks, but Effie walks in and it’s all giggles. Are you trying to kill me?”

“I promised the geese,” she answers softly. I snort a bit at her jest.

“Capitol Monsters,” he mutters, taking another heavy swig from his flask. Then as if just noticing where we are, he looks between her and the bed. “Shouldn’t you be lying down? Refusing to speak? Drained from the sheer effort of having your brain?” His tone is light but I sense the concern. He knows how easily fatigued she is, and I’m sure he’s noticed the wet hair and change of clothes, assuming correctly she’s been out of bed for a while.

“Brief change of scenery,” she answers, cracking her back. Wordlessly Haymitch and I move to either side of her and help her up. She’s leaning most of her weight on me, one arm wrapped around my shoulder and other clutching Haymitch’s hand. We guide her back to the bed, and she sits slowly, her baby bump clear as day, now the table does not cover it. I let go of her, but Haymitch keeps holding onto her hand, looking at her closely.

“You look a bit pale,” he says. I glance at her and nod in agreement. I hadn’t noticed.

“Probably just out of bed for too long,” she whispers, repositioning herself in the bed so her head is on the pillows again. She grimaces a little. “Although my back is killing me.” Just as the words leave her mouth she sucks in her breath and lets out a sharp cry of pain. Her knuckles are white as she clutches Haymitch’s hand. I’m across the room is six seconds flat banging repeatedly on the call button to get a doctor. I turn back to look at the pair of them. I feel like I might vomit. One of her hands is clinging to Haymitch, while she’s doubled over in pain. The other hand I clutching her stomach. It’s the first time I’ve seen her touch it.

“What is it?” I ask panicked, from the wall, still pounding on the call button. “Where’s the pain, Katniss?” She doesn’t answer. She’s gasping for air, every muscle in her body tense. Beads of sweat are appearing on her forehead. I look at Haymitch. All the color has vanished from his face, as he gazes back at me, mouth hanging open helplessly, still letting Katniss squeeze his hand. She lets out another cry of pain as Dr. Ninda rushes into the room. She takes on look at Katniss, and gets to work.

“You have to let me touch you,” Ninda tells her, waving her hands off her stomach. Ninda begins to touch the bump, watching carefully for any signs of increased distress on Katniss’ face. Her assistance comes in panting and out of breath. “Go get the machine for the ultrasound and everything we need for a blood test,” she snaps as she continues pressing on my wife’s stomach. Katniss is crying openly now, but her face isn’t contorted with pain anymore.

“Is the pain letting up?” Ninda asks, but Katniss doesn’t seem to hear her.

“I’m sorry,” she begins to gasp, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” She won’t say anything else.

“What’s happening?” I ask urgently, walking over to the bed and standing behind Haymitch, touching the top of Katniss’ head as she collapses back into the pillows, eyes closed. “Is she losing the baby?” Ninda shake hers head.

“I don’t think so,” she says. “If she were there would be blood and she would be in a lot more pain.” I scan Katniss’ sheets. There is no sign of blood, and even though every muscle in her body is still tense the pain seems to be letting up. The assistant returns with Rancher as he helps her pull the machine. Aurelius is close behind. There’s a kit in Rancher’s pocket that I recognize as the blood testing kit. He pulls it out and draws a sample from Katniss’ arm as the assistant begins to set up the machine. He sticks the sample back into the machine that the kit also contains and waits. It beeps and series of numbers flashes across a screen. He looks around at all of us.

“Normal,” he says confused. “Her blood pressure, hormone levels, everything perfectly normal for a seventeen week pregnant woman.” She whimpers in bed. Ninda takes the wand from her assistant as the screen for the ultrasound comes to life. She moves it across Katniss stomach and the now familiar sound of a heartbeat fills the room. Ninda squints at the machine as the baby comes into view. She moves the wand around and we zoom out farther, getting a full picture. With each twist of her wrist we get a new view of Katniss uterus.

“I see no signs of distress,” Ninda confirms. My heart begins to slow down. It’s not longer pounding in panic, but my eyes are still wide and fearful. I don’t understand. What is causing this reaction? As we watch the baby from the side, getting a full view of the top of her head and the tips of her toes, a leg twitches and makes contact with the edge of her surrounding. Katniss lets out another sharp cry. Her eyes are open now, wide with panic.

“I’m going to lose it,” she gasps. Aurelius pushes past Rancher, who moves quickly to make room for him.

“You’re not miscarrying,” he assures her gently. “She’s just kicking. See?” He points to the screen, where our daughter is visible. “She’s right there, all warm and cozy inside you. That feeling is just her stretching.” Katniss shakes her head.

“I’m going to kill it,” she says, sobs wracking her body. “I’m going to kill it just by being me.” I’m stunned into silence, guilt overpowering me, my knees begin to shake. I lean against the wall for support. It shouldn’t be like this. This should be happy. We should be celebrating, but instead here we are.

“You don’t know that Katniss,” Aurelius says soothingly, but she’s gone again. Deep into her own mind. Her head lulls to the side like she’s been drugged, but no needle has touched her. I have seen this before. No words will reach her during this stage. She will register no touch. She might come to for a few minutes, long enough to recognize the softness of the sheets and the warmth of the bed, but she will fall back under, drowning in her own sorrow. Aurelius, like myself is familiar with this stage.

“Get an IV. We’ll need to pump fluids into her.” Ninda flicks off the screen and the image of our child fades to blackness, as Rincher turns and leaves the room. Haymitch drops Katniss’ hand. She will feel no touches now. Aurelius turns to me. “I was afraid this would happen. As the baby becomes more present it becomes harder for her to pretend none of this is happening. It leaves her no choice but to deal with it.”

“What do you mean more present?” ask Haymitch.

“By more present I mean it is apparent that she is expecting. It will begin to affect her life more, either through growing and taking up more space inside her body, or moving. As this occurs she’ll be reminded constantly about her condition, and since it’s causing her so much trauma…episodes like this might occur more frequently.” I nod as if any of it makes sense to me.

“Then what do we do?” demands Haymitch. “The girl survived two arenas and a rebellion. You’re telling me carrying another human being around for nine months is going to be what does her in?”

“This won’t kill her.”

“It just might drive her past the point she can recover from,” I chime in. Dr. Aurelius looks at me. “Just say it. I’ve made a decision that will destroy her mentally.” He’s shaking his head.

“Honestly Peeta, I don’t think you have. Her distress over the baby centers around not being able to care for it. She wants it to stay alive. What is driving her into these episodes is thinking something will happen to it or that something has already happened to it. The first thing she asked you when she regained consciousness in District 12 was if she had lost the baby. It is my professional opinion that having an abortion would have been worse for her mental health. This is fleeting. We just need to get them both through the next few months, deliver the baby via C-section, and Katniss will recover.”

I collapse in the chair next to the bed, staring at her briefly before closing my eyes and rubbing my temples. She lets out a little whimper. I start. Normally she doesn’t make sounds. Haymitch moves forward a little. I sit up straighter, leaning in. She whimpers again. Wordlessly I place a hand on her stomach, and I feel it. Strong little limbs pushing back against my hand. Katniss shifts a little under my touch, and the whimpering stops, though the kicking continues. I stroke my thumb over her tight skin. Her breathing evens out. I remember how she begged for me to treat this like a normal pregnancy, and I vow no matter what happens, I will maintain my sanity, to treat this like it is truly happening. One of us has to live in reality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this has been going pretty well so far I think. I've gotten 150 Kudos which is amazing and a ton of comments, which I love!! Please let me know what you think! I know a couple people missed the angst with the last update, but it is far from over. Please comment!


	14. Chapter 14: It's a Nice Tree

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings: Reference to Suicide and Self Harm, discussion of substance abuse and addiction.

It’s the digging of her fingers that wakes me up. We’re lying in the king size bed Aurelius brought in the same day Katniss became catatonic. I had remembered her request, and the psychiatrist had obliged, agreeing that making Katniss feel at ease and at home was the most important thing to do. Part of feeling at home and relaxed involved sleeping in my arms to keep the nightmares at bay. The restraints were now attached to both the headboard and the guardrail on her side of the bed, although we had not needed them. She had done nothing other than whimper and sink into my touch for the past three days.

Tonight though, her fingers are digging into my shoulders and I can feel the irregularity of her breathing. I shift her a little, wordlessly moving her head so her ear rests in her favorite spot. She tells me it’s where she can hear my heart beat the loudest. I hold her head there, placing kisses on her temples as she clings to me, fingernails digging into my skin. Her breath seems to wisp out of her, shakily. I begin to rock us back and forth slowly. The minutes slip by and slowly her grip on me slackens. I’m still stroking her shoulder, and holding her head to my chest, letting her baby bump press against the side of my body. I feel a little kick, and she whimpers as an involuntary smile crosses my face.

“She’s stretching,” I whisper softly, reminding my wife of what the doctors say. Katniss nods slowly into my chest. “Nothing is hurting her. She’s fine. She’s safe. She’s with you and you’re with me.” She gently pulls away from me, and I watch her sit up, letting out a soft groan as her back cracks a little. Her head now resting against the headboard, I watch in the moonlight as she touches the end of her braided hair. I’ve been redoing it day after day.

“I…” Katniss croaks. I sit up eagerly. She hasn’t spoken in three days. She looks at me as I join her, resting against the headboard. “I…I haven’t left this room in over a week.” I smile and wordlessly swing my legs over the side of the bed and come round to hers. I lower the guardrail, with the restraint strapped to and extend my hand. She takes it, swinging her own legs over the bed, although not as gracefully as me. I help pull her to her feet and we move silently, to the door. I open it just a touch and stick my head out, glancing from side to side. No one is there. I open it all the way, and taking her hand lead her out into the hallway.

We don’t move as quickly as normal. Katniss is too weighed down with the baby and her own emotions. She pads softly down the hallway in bare feet, fingers locked in mine. I lead her twenty feet past our room and turn her to the left, where there is a glass door that leads out into the courtyard. I slowly push it open and she walks outside, slightly ahead of me. As the wind hits her body her muscles seem to unclench. She moves slowly onto the path and walks by the windows looking into our now empty room. I quietly close the door, not wanting to disturb Haymitch who is staying across the hall. The moonlight hits her, and taking a deep breath she steps off the path into the grass. Her belly sticking out in front of her, she makes her way to the tree nearest the door. She reaches out, touching its truck, running her hand over the rough bark. She sighs deeply leaning into it, her eyes closed. I sit on the sidewalk next to the path, watching her as the wind blows through her hair.

“What kind of tree is it?” I ask her softly. A smile creases her lips, as she passes her fingertips over it again.

“It’s a willow tree.” Katniss says softly, reaching out and just grasping a branch above her head, but she makes no move to hoist herself up. She runs her thumb over the wood of the branch, her fingers just grazing the leafs.

“Willow,” I repeat softly. She nods.

“I like it,” Katniss sighs.

“It’s a nice tree,” I agree. She pauses, looking back at me. She seems to be thinking, but decides against sharing with me.

“It is. It’s a lovely tree.”

***

The next morning, as I wake up, there’s a soft creaking sound of the mattress. I open my eyes and see Katniss, sitting up, her legs swung over the side of the bed looking out at the willow tree we stood by for an hour last night. I pull myself to a seat position, reach out and stroke the back of her shoulder. She lets out a soft sigh, and turns to look at me.

“Are you hungry?” I ask. Katniss hasn’t eaten solid food for a few days. Most of her nutrients and fluids have been coming from IVs and pills. Ninda says it’s fine for now, but that the sooner we can move her back to actual food the better. “I can call up for some lamb stew,” I suggest.

“Do you remember that broth? From the feast at the Capitol, the one that tasted like spring?” I smile, remembering her insistence that she try everything at the table and eat only one bite at a time. I nod, recalling how difficult it was for her to move on from that light, clear, concoction.

“I’ll see if they have it.” I stand up and make my way over to the intercom and place the order. As I am about to turn back into the room, the door opens and Haymitch wonders in. He pauses for a moment, clearly taken aback at seeing Katniss sitting up, legs swung over the side of the bed, toes grazing the floor. He tilts his head to the side, flask clutched loosely in his hands.

“Did you order me breakfast?” he asks, not taking his eyes off Katniss.

“No Haymitch. I was under the assumption you were on a strict liquid diet,” I answer, brushing past him to sit next to the chair on Katniss’ side of the bed. He takes a swig from the flask, and stumbles into the room offering it to me. I wrinkle my nose, shaking my head.

“What lost your taste for the stuff all the sudden, boy?” he chortles, sitting down on the couch almost directly behind my chair. Katniss shoots me a quizzical look. She knows I don’t drink. Neither of us does. It’s too easy for Victors to become dependent. We wordlessly decided a long time ago to abstain, but before Katniss can ask what he means, the attendant arrives with her soup. She swings her legs back into bed, as he sets up a tray for her to eat there. With Katniss distracted Haymitch turns to me.

“Listen,” he begins in a hushed tone. “There have been a few phone calls.”

“Flickerman?” I ask, remembering how we canceled the interview all together, much to Plutarch’s annoyance. We have not been on camera since the rebellion, and the Capitol is desperate to know about the Star Crossed Lovers.

“No,” he drops his tone even more as the attendant puts the soup on the makeshift table. “The…. _cousin_ ,” he says the last word with a lot of distaste, and my heart drops. “As a high ranking military official, he had to have been notified that Aurealius temporarily lifted Katniss’ confinement for medical reasons. He had probably also been informed as to where she would be treated.

“Does he know why?” I whisper quickly. The attendant is turning to leave.

“No, but he knows what facility we are in. This place only specializes in treating traumatized war heroes, when their mental problems become…too much. He’s not an idiot. He knows she’s had a breakdown. He just doesn’t know why.”

“Look who’s keeping secrets now!” Katniss voice cuts in, as the door closes behind the attendant. We both look at her. Her face has rounded slightly from the pregnancy, and her baby bump is occupying almost all the space between her and the tray. Her forehead is creased however, as she glares at Haymitch and me.

“No concern of yours, Sweetheart,” Haymitch mutters. Stepping into the room, and picking up the paper the attendant brought. Katniss turns her attention to me. I can’t lie to her or refuse to tell her. Treating her like she is fragile always makes it worse, but I can’t risk it driving her into another one of her catatonic states, not now that she’s so close to eating again.

“It’s nothing,” I concur, and for good measure I add, “Haymitch was just complaining about how Effie is determined to get him into rehab. She’s coming back today for another visit.” It’s not a total lie. Haymitch had been complaining about Effie a lot over the past few days, and she was coming back in today. Katniss narrows her eyes at me. “Eat your soup,” I encourage her. “It’ll be better warm.”

She lifts a spoonful, and brings it slowly to her mouth. As it passes over her lips she seems to sigh contentedly, and begins eating faster and faster. It’s as if she just realized how hungry she truly is. The soup is gone in just ten minutes. I pick up one of the four rolls they brought with it and take a bite. Katniss does the same and almost immediately makes a face.

“It’s not as good as yours,” she mutters, picking at part of the flaky part. I smile.

“Most breads aren’t,” I grin at her. She smiles back. “Do you miss the cheese buns?” She nods. “I can talk to Aurelius see if I can use the kitchen to do some baking.

“I’d like that,” Katniss whispers, “It would be almost normal.” We sit in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, we three tired Victors. Katniss is staring out the window at the willow tree again. Haymitch is drinking occasionally from his flask, and I’m resting my head on one hand, remembering the last time Gale tried to contact us. It was around a year after the rebellion, after Prim died. Katniss had answered the phone, and upon hearing his voice had dropped it as though it were on fire. She threw it towards me, and ran upstairs. I caught the phone, and told Gale she wasn’t ready to talk to him. He asked how she was doing. I heard the shower turn on upstairs. I answered all his questions as best I could. “She’s doing a bit better. She’s starting to hunt again. She’s eating a little more each day. No she still can’t sleep through the night.” Before we got off the phone, I told him not to call again. It wouldn’t help with her recovery. He’d understood and told me that I had to take care of her. I agreed. After hanging up, I sat outside the bathroom while Katniss showered for close to an hour. I called soothing words out for her. None of us had spoken to him since.

I’m broken out of this memory by a knock at the door. Aurelius sticks his head in. He smiles upon seeing Katniss sitting up in bed with a tray and empty dishes in front of her. She’s even staring to get some color back in her cheeks.

“Well when they told me you’d ordered food, I almost didn’t believe it,” he said happily. The smile however is gone from Katniss’ face. She’d been reserving them only for Haymitch and myself. She still had a deep distrust of doctors. “I was thinking now would be a good time for a session just you, Peeta, and I Katniss. If that’s alright with everyone.” Haymitch stands up and starts to move towards the door as I nod. I briefly hear the bustle of the hospital staff outside as the door open and closes behind Haymitch, and then we are alone.

“How was breakfast Katniss?” Aurelius asks kindly.

“Fine,” she answers. For the most part her conversations with the therapist still amount to only one or two words.

“Some of the hospital staff thought they saw you out in the courtyard last night.” It’s not a question, simply a statement. He doesn’t appear angry. He’s looking curiously at Katniss, trying to read her facial expression. It flickers for just a moment, looking more at ease just recalling the outdoors, but quickly resets to its usual unreadable state.

“I took her out,” I say quickly, not wanting to get Katniss in any kind of trouble. “She had a nightmare and complained about feeling cooped up. I thought some fresh air would help her get back to sleep.”

“I like the tree outside,” Katniss adds suddenly. Aurelius looks away from me back to her, surprised. She normally does not volunteer information. “It’s a willow tree. It’s the first tree my father ever taught me to identify,” she continues, looking out at it.

“You like it because it reminds you of your father?” Aurelius probes. Katniss pauses.

“I like it because it reminds me of home. Willows are flexible, graceful looking. Simple yet beautiful.” I glance out at the tree. Its long green leaves hanging off it make it look more like a bush than anything to me, but I don’t offer any comment. If it makes Katniss happy than I’ll build it a shrine and bake it a cake. “Flexibility is good,” Katniss continues. “It makes it harder to break you.” I’m watching her closely now, as is Aurelius. She’s staring out at the tree and almost unconsciously she touches her stomach, right at the peak point of her bump. She draws her hand back almost instantly, but not in pain or disgust. She simply seems lost in thought, trying to connect things together, but her senses are too clouded.

“Well then,” Aurelius begins drawing Katniss out of her thoughts, “if you like than by all means, have Peeta or Haymitch take you outside as much as you like. Have a picnic once the weather starts improving.” He stares at her, but her face has faded back into that unreadable expression. “I’m thinking being up more might actually do you some good. Exercise is amazing for anxiety and even depression, and since you normally are active with your hunting and all, it might help your body and mind feel more at ease, at home.” Katniss nods to show she’s listening. “Of course you’ll have to be escorted by someone besides Peeta. One of the attendings, in case something goes wrong, but there is a pool here, an area where people can walk or run or bike on these machines the Capitol created. You could even just take walks around halls for a while.” I glance at Aurelius, but Katniss asks the question on my mind before it comes out of my mouth.

“Is that a good idea? What if I…get the urge to try something again?” A sad little smile crosses Aurelius’ face.

“The attendants I have in mind will of course have a dose of sedative on them at all times, and before you go anywhere I’ll of course want to have a chat with you. Peeta I’m sure would also love to accompany you, and I don’t think you’d want to cause him anymore pain and suffering.” Katniss closes her eyes at this, her eyes starting to water. Aurelius pauses before continuing, “I trust your mental state more now Katniss. You’re starting to win back some control. I’d hate to see you lose it from being cooped up. Are you ready to start moving a bit again?” She bites her lips and nods.

“Good,” Aurelius chimes stand up now. “I’ll talk with the doctors and we can work out a routine and plan that won’t tax you too much. Depending on what they say and which attendings are on call today, we might be able to start later this afternoon. Is there anything else you need?”

“Baking,” Katniss says suddenly. Aurelius stops moving towards the door at this word and turns to look at her. “I mean…you said to me when you started arranging for us to come here that you wanted to make things easier for Peeta as well as me…he should feel at home too right?” A smile crosses Aurelius’ lips.

“Of course Katniss. You are completely correct. Peeta I can talk to the kitchen staff about arranging for you to do some baking. It’s a wonderful idea.” He opens the door. “I’ll be back later today. I think we’re starting to make some wonderful progress.” He walks through the door and it snaps shuts again. Katniss and I are alone. I move over to the chair closest to her head and reach for her hand, but she doesn’t take it. She moves so she’s sitting a little more upright and looks at me with a mixture of anger and concern.

“What?” I ask confused.

“Have you been drinking with Haymitch I mean, since all of this,” she jesters towards her stomach, “started?” I drop my gaze from hers.

“Briefly…once…well only…only twice. It was early on Katniss, back in Twelve…but not for months.”

“How much?”

“How much what?”

“How much did you drink?” Her voice sounds broken. I swallow.

“I…I don’t know Katniss,” I tell her, “A few swigs from his flask…. and then…a bottle.”

“Enough to get tipsy?” I nod. “Enough to get drunk?” I nod again. “Enough to black out?” I keep my vision fixed on the stitching of the dark blue bedspread covering her baby bump. “When?”

“The day after you were admitted to the hospital in twelve. While you sat with Aurelius the first time…Haymitch had a flask. Then after Aurelius took me for a walk and told me I had to decide about you and the…I broke into Haymitch’s house, downed a bottle till I passed out.”

“I remember that day,” she whispers. “I was hysterical when you didn’t come back. I thought you’d left me. That you hated me for not being able to handle…” one of her hand moves so that it’s resting on the bump. The other comes under my chin, and trains my face up so I’m staring directly at her.

“You can’t do that again,” she hisses, her voice steady. “After everything you have been through Peeta, everything you have seen, it’d be too easy to wind up dependent, and I need you. No matter how hard things get, no matter what happens, you cannot cope the way Haymitch does, _ever_.”

“It was one time Katniss,” I whisper.

“And I’m sure it started as one time for Haymitch and the morphlings from six,” she snaps back. “But you have to promise me that for you it will only ever be one time, because…” she pauses as she makes a choking sound. “I can’t do this without you. I can’t be a mother without you…raise a child…I can’t even sleep without you.” Sobs are wracking her body now. I let go of her hand and climb over her in bed, to my side. I pull her down and bring her head to her favorite spot. She presses her ear to my chest, listening to my heartbeat.

“I’m not going anywhere,” I whisper to her.

“It’s too easy for victors to become dependent,” she insists. “Too easy. I want you to promise me you won’t block it out with alcohol again, that you won’t block me out with alcohol. Promise!”

“I promise.” She lets out a choking gasp and I begin to rock her back and forth. Her breathing gets heavy. I feel her muscles slowly unclench, as she loosens her grip on my shirt.

“Stay with me,” she whispers. I look down at her, eyes dropping, breathing evening out, clearly on the cusp of sleep.

“Always.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Alright so I'm a little annoyed. I got zero comments on the last chapter, and I don't want to be one of those authors who complains when they don't get comments. It was just a little disappointing because part of what I look forward to when I update is reading the comments and getting feedback from people. It helps me as a writer, so please give me some kind of indication that people are enjoying this story or...you know reading it at all. It will make me want to update sooner next time.


	15. Chapter 15: Demanded

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings: Mention of drinking and mental breakdowns.

“It’s the air. It’s thinner up here in the mountains,” Katniss gasps, as I reach out and lower the speed on the machine in the fitness center. Aurelius calls it a treadmill. There are only two in the fitness room, both of which are occupied by Katniss and Haymitch. I stand beside my wife’s machine, watching her carefully. It’s only our third day on the exercise plan. Katniss’ face is bright red her breathing heavy, and her machine is now, like Haymitch’s, set to the lowest pace possible. Her pregnant belly sticks out before her, and I notice how it’s changing her walk.

“No, it’s not the air,” Haymitch chortles, reaching for his flask in the water bottle holder. “You’re just getting fat Sweetheart.” I glare at Haymitch. Katniss responds by swatting at his hand with the flask. He manages to keep a hold of it but a lot of its content spills over the front of his shirt. He glowers at her as they both moved at their leisurely pace on the contraptions.

“Oh don’t give me that look,” she snapped. “You shouldn’t drink on these things anyway.” She cast a distrustful eye at the buttons. “Why does everything here have to be so complicated? Why can’t people just run around and walk outside?”

“Maybe,” says Haymitch, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Because they are on suicide watch after a series of panic attacks involving an unplanned pregnancy and can’t leave the confinement of a mental health facility for fear of being ambushed by the media. Or maybe it’s because they were stupid enough to forget to pick up birth control pills and then had unprotected sex with their wife. Or most likely it’s because they selfless saved two clueless teenagers from being killed in two fights to the death and one war only to be repaid by being dragged to the Capitol while their alcohol stores are slowly, needlessly depleted,” he growled, peering into his flask.

“Yes poor Haymitch. He has to endure the occasional spillage of his booze as he sits around all day drinking and eating to his hearts content while he yells at the television,” I snap.

“Oh shut up,” he growls. “This is all your fault you know.”

“Yes because as we are all aware I had no idea that Peeta was using old condoms. Come to think of it, I don’t even recall if I was there when he impregnated me,” Katniss snorts sarcastically. I don’t miss the anger lacing her tone. “Just shut up and walk Haymitch!” I watch Katniss carefully. Her cheeks are flushed, but not from the exertion. She’s wearing a pair of maternity leggings and one of my large t-shirts. Her feet are squeezed into something that Effie called tennis shoes. Apparently people in the capitol wear them for light exercise. She’s now approaching the five-month mark. The door to the fitness room opens and an attending walks in. He begins to make his way over to me, as Katniss and Haymitch keep arguing.

“I’m looking forward to you squeezing out this little bundle of annoyance for two reasons sweetheart, the first is afterwards we can all go home. The second is those damn hormones of yours will stop making you all emotional. You’ve got me nostalgic for the days when you were a closed book.” The attending leans in to whisper in my ear.

“You have a phone call from the head peace keeper of district 2. Gale Hawthorne,” he tells me quietly. My heart sinks.

“Do you not have a sensitive bone in your body Haymitch? Who talks that way to a pregnant woman?”

“He’s asking specifically for me?” I hiss back to the attending, glancing at my fellow victors to make sure they are occupied.

“Who spills an alcoholic’s beverage on purpose!?! And if you want to talk about sensitivity, let’s discuss all the things you said and did to that poor husband of yours in District 13.”

“No sir,” the attending answers, following my gaze. “He’s asking for Mrs. Mellark, but Aurelius has given strict orders about not allowing her outside phone calls from people not on the approved list, media and all…Peace Keeper Hawthorne demanded to speak to you instead.”

“YOU USELESS DRUNK! That was the most emotionally difficult period of my life and you just throw it in my face to win an argument! You make me sick!!”

“Demanded?” I repeat quietly. “He _demanded_.”

“Your hormones are showing sweetheart.”

“He is the head peacekeeper in District 2, sir,” the attending responds, nervously. “He’s on the phone now.”

“Don’t you dare call me sweetheart!!”

“Fine. Separate them before the brawl starts will you?” I reply. I move away from my bickering wife and mentor to head towards the door. They are too busy screaming at one another to notice. A few more attendings slip into the room as I leave. They probably came to investigate the source of all the noise. I make my way down to the front desk. Upon seeing me the receptionist waves me over and picks up the phone.

“Thank you for holding Peacekeeper Hawthorne. I have Peeta Mellark standing by to speak to you.” She pauses for a second listening to Gale’s response. “Yes sir. You too sir.” She hands me the phone without a word.

“Hello,” I begin.

“What happened?” Gale’s voice hits me like a ton of bricks. It’s been years since any of us have spoken to him.

“Everything is fine,” I answer quietly.

“Oh so this little stint the in a mental facility is just for giggles?” he snaps back. “Don’t lie to me Peeta! What happened?”

“I don’t see how it’s any of your business Gale.”

“Mrs. Everdean called me yesterday in a complete panic, because she found out that Katniss had been moved and declared mentally unfit to make medical decisions for herself. Legally next of kin is supposed to be with her. Mrs. Everdean is still in four, which means Katniss has no next of kin with her. That Capitol is taking advantage of her again, and you’re letting them! I would say that damn well is my business.” I stand by the receptionist’s desk, horror struck. He doesn’t know about the marriage. She said she’d told him.

“Peeta? Why are you letting them do this to her? What going on?”

“She told me she’d told you,” I say stupidly. “She said she’d written you and her mother, but that neither of you responded.”

“Written us about what?”

“The wedding, the toasting.” Silence follows this. I continue, panicked, “ We got married…nearly five years ago.” He still doesn’t answer. “I’m her husband. I’m her next of kin. I consented to move her to the Capitol.”

“You’re…she’s…. she married you. You two are married?”

“Yes,” I answer curtly. There’s a long pause. I don’t break it.

“You’re supposed to be taking care of her then.”

“I am taking care of her.”

“Then what is she doing in a mental facility for war heroes and victors? What happened?” I hesitate. “Don’t lie Peeta! You don’t just have a break down after being fine for five years!” That makes me angry.

“She wasn’t fine, Gale! She wasn’t fine! She was a ghost for months before I came home! You left her, abandoned her, and gave up on her! You and everyone else! I had to refill the empty broken shell that she was when I came home! I had to bring her back to life with my bare hands! It took me a year! A year!! And yes we got married! Because she loves me and I love her! And yes things have gotten better! We have good days when we’re only sad for a few minutes. But she was never fine Gale! NEVER! That’s just a pathetic lie you tell yourself so you can sleep at night.” I’m breathing heavily now, rage I didn’t know I possessed seeping out of me like poison.

“Well obviously things can’t have gotten that much better if you’re back in the Aurelius’ little hospital. What happened?”

“There were outside circumstances. She couldn’t handle them on her own. We are here making sure she has the care she needs to cope and stay healthy.”

“What outside circumstances?”

“That’s none of your business.” I know why I don’t want to tell him. The baby is none of his business. The pregnancy has still been kept widely a secret. I don’t want other people knowing about it. I want this to be something intimate between Katniss and myself, something that others can’t comment on or publicize. It’s private.

“Fine,” he snaps. “I’m coming.”

“You can’t.”

“She is a declared threat to the safety of Panem. Or have you forgotten that that’s why you’ve been locked away in twelve for years? She is a threat to national security, especially when she is emotionally compromised. As a condition of her being allowed back to the Capitol, any head member of the peacekeeping forces is allowed to see her to ascertain the safety of the nation. As head peacekeeper of two I am perfectly within my rights to determine if she is a threat to the republic.”

“You don’t honestly think she’s a threat. You of all people know better. You wouldn’t dare come here!” I snarl.

“Watch me!”

“You’ll bring the media with you. You’ll never be able to pull off a trip like that in secret. They’ll knock down the gates!”

“Then tell me what happened! Tell me what made her break down!”

“It’ll only hurt you Gale!”

“Try me!!” We’re both yelling now.

“It’s none of your business!”

“Like it or not Mellark your _wife_ ,” he practically spits out the last word in rage, “was a symbol of the rebellion. She holds a lot of power in the country, and what happens to her, what affects her, is everyone’s business.”

“You sound like a capitol junkie, demanding a slice of a Victor. Do you want to make your precious little Mockingjay dance more Gale, or have you forgotten she’s a person, someone you claimed to love once?” Stony silence. When he does speak, his voice is ice cold.

“If you refuse to brief me in full on the situation, then I have no choice but to come and see it for myself, in order to ascertain the threat to national security. Expect my to arrive for an inspection within a fortnight.” There’s a click and the line goes dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright. I would like to thank everyone who reviewed after the last chapter. I know it might have seemed a little whiny to complain about getting no feedback, but I'm currently abroad right now and still finding the time to update. It's just nice to read about how that's appreciated. Thank you all for the response and I'm glad to know that you're reading it and liking it! I hope you're liking the Gale drama!


	16. Chapter 16: I'm Stronger Than This

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings: Brief sexual moment

Everyone in the reception area is staring at me. I stand looking straight ahead, not really seeing anything, the phone resting loosely in my hand, pressed against my face as I listen to the dial tone. I had not noticed how loudly I had been yelling. What is worse is, I don’t care. I don’t care if I look deranged; this is a mental hospital after all. I quickly hand the phone back to the gaping receptionist and turn on my heels, heading towards Aurelius’ office. I barge in without knocking, making him jump. He had been slumped up against the back of his chair, clearly napping. Upon seeing me he begins rubbing his eyes, looking flustered.

“Peeta,” he simpers, “I didn’t think we had an appointment till later. I’m so sorry I must have over slept and…what time is it?”

“You didn’t over sleep,” I tell him. I walk into the room, closing the door behind me. “I just got off the phone with Gale Hawthorne.” Aurelius sits up at these words.

“Peacekeeper Gale Hawthorne? In District Two? Katniss’ former hunting partner and romantic interest Gale Hawthorne? The one who designed the bomb that….” He trails off.

“That killed Prim,” I finish the sentence for him. “Yes that Gale Hawthorne. He is the head peacekeeper of two. He was notified when we moved Katniss, since she is supposed to be in exile for life.”

“I am aware he was notified and that he has been calling. I have been meaning to discuss the matter with President Paylor. He is not displaying the professionalism his position demands. He has no respect for her confidentiality. I have been trying to keep this away from you and Katniss because I was hoping to deal with it. It was a mistake that you were allowed to talk to him.”

“He claims that as head peace keeper in two he is allowed to ascertain if Katniss is a security threat.”

“Technically yes,” Aurelius says, gesturing towards the seat in front of him. “He can come for an inspection.” I sit down in front of his desk.

“So that’s it. He’s coming here, and we have to let him see Katniss.”

“Yes and no. He’s coming here but you as Katniss’ next of kin have complete control over who is and who is not permitted visitation. All Peacekeeper Hawthorne’s status allows him is the right to inspect our facility to guarantee security is up to par and someone who has a history of violence and mental instability cannot escape. Officials are not allowed to visit, see, or talk to patients without consent. Anything else would violate the patient’s right to privacy. To see her, Peacekeeper Hawthorne would have to have your permission.”

“What about the staff?” I ask. “Someone might slip, tell him she’s pregnant.”

“My staff is aware of the situation. They adore Katniss, the symbol of the rebellion, the girl on fire. She means something special to citizens of both the districts and the capitol. They want her to recover. They know revealing her pregnancy would do damage to someone who has given this country so much. I am very certain that none of them will violate her confidentiality. They know that Peacekeepers do no need information about the kinds of treatments patients or receiving or the states they are in.”

“But you can’t stop him coming?”

“I cannot,” he says sadly. “I also cannot stop him from seeing or talking to Katniss if he runs into her. He won’t be permitted in any patients rooms, so it might be best to confine her to your quarters during his inspection. Additionally I will alert President Paylor to Peacekeeper Hawthorne’s behavior. But you are correct. He is within his rights to come, and I cannot deny him that.” I take a deep breath staring at the psychologist.

“His presence…even if he’s just nearby…it could set us back so much…. She’s eating again, exercising more, sleeping a little better.”

“You’re concerned that if she finds out he’s here…are you worried she’ll go back to him?”

“No,” I answer, without thinking. I know she never would. “We’ve been married for five years. She has refused to speak to him. She never even told him about the toasting.”

“Didn’t she promise to do that?”

“Yes. She lied.”

“How do you feel about that?”

“Angry. I’m angry. Her mother did not even know. She called Gale in a panic because she heard Katniss needed a next of kin to make her medical decisions. She thought they had taken Katniss without next of kin’s consent. Her mother doesn’t know we’re married.” I pause. I feel the anger building again, and as often happens when I become enraged with Katniss I begin to feel something like poison seeping through me. “She lied to me,” I hiss a little quieter. “I trusted her.”

“Deep breathes Peeta. She did not do it hurt you. She might have lied to protect herself. It probably was too difficult for her to reach out to the people who abandoned her.”

“So I have no right to be upset?”

“You have every right to be upset. What do you want to do with the anger?”

“There’s nothing I can do.” He pauses, looking at me.

“May I make an observation,” he inquires. I make a motion for him to go on. “Katniss has asked you to be excited about the pregnancy, no matter what her mental state she’s in. She has expressed many times that being treated as if she is broken makes her feel frustrated and trapped. It inhibits her recovery. She wants to be treated the way people would treat her if everything was fine.” I raise my eyebrows.

“What’s your point?” I ask.

“If you’re mad at her…be mad at her. You would have understood if telling them about the wedding was too difficult for her. You would have helped her through it. She lied to you instead of asking you for help. That is something that married people should discuss. If you treat her as though this is business as usual, it might do wonders for her recovery. Normalcy can do amazing things for the mind.”

“Or she could go into a panic thinking I’m going to abandon her while she’s pregnant,” I snap back. This idea is insane. He cannot honestly suggest I go and purposefully start an argument with my panicking, depressed, and pregnant wife. “She could breakdown again.”

“She could,” he admits, “But I’ll make sure Rancher is nearby with a does of sedatives, just incase. It would be short-lived, Peeta. She’ll realize after just a couple of days that you aren’t going anywhere, and we can start again. On the other hand, she might argue back, regain some of herself. You fight don’t you?”

“Occasionally,” I answer. I don’t know why he bothers asking. One of us always winds up calling him after a big fight. He smiles.

“It could ground her in reality. Help her feel more like things are normal and this pregnancy does not mean the end of her life, but if you have doubts, I understand. It is your call.”

“She was arguing with Haymitch earlier. Something about a fat comment.”

“It’s a good sign. That tells me she’s starting to be a bit more forceful, at least about small things. If she can take a stand on little things like telling Haymitch he bothers her, than we’re making progress towards her being able to make decisions again.”

“You think if she takes a stand against me on not telling Gale and her mother about the marriage, it would indicate an improvement.”

“A huge one. Even if all she does is tell you you’re wrong. She could even agree with you. She just has to be able to express her thinking.” I hesitate. I do trust him, and rarely since he started treating me has he ever been wrong.

“I’ll do it. I’ll talk to her. I won’t yell though or argue with her.” He nods.

“I can page Rancher, make sure he’s nearby in case there’s a problem.” He picks up the phone as I turn to leave. “I’ll see you in an hour or so Peeta for your appointment.” I wave to show I heard him as I exit. I slowly make my way up a couple flights of stairs back to our room. As I walk through the door I see Katniss in bed, maternity pajamas on, her hair wet. She’s sitting up; bed raised a little, TV remote in hand. Haymitch is sleeping open mouthed, cradling his flask. I walk over to him and kick his feet, causing him to jerk awake.

“Can you give us a minute?” I demand, a note of anger creeping into my voice. Haymitch looks and me, and I see him glance at Katniss over my shoulder.

“No problem,” he replies coolly, getting up and slowly moving towards the door. I stand with my back to Katniss till I hear it click shut behind him.

“You left the fitness room in a hurry,” she comments. I turn to look at her. The red flush of anger is gone from her cheeks now. Her hair has recently been washed but she hasn’t braided it. It hangs lose and damp around her shoulders.

“I had a phone call waiting for me,” I tell her.

“Who? Annie? Beetee? Or Joanna?” Those really are the only three people in the world who normally call us.

“Head Peace keeper in Two,” I say casually sitting down in the chair next to her, and propping my feet up on the bed.

“The head peacekeeper in two,” she repeats, confused.

“Didn’t you hear?” I ask, trying to keep my tone even. “Gale got a promotion.” The color drains from her face.

“Gale…you…. you talked to Gale?” I nod. She closes her eyes and brings her hand up to her forehead, pushing out the crease from above the bridge of her nose.

“He was concerned that the Capitol was taking advantage of you. Your mother was apparently notified that you had been declared temporarily insane and needed your closest relative to make decisions regarding your well-being. She called Gale, confused and upset, thinking the Capitol was taking advantage of you. Apparently she had no idea that I am actually your next of kin, not her.”

“I can explain Peeta,” Katniss begins, voice shaking.

“Can you? Because I’d really like to know why your own mother doesn’t even know about our marriage. Gale I can at least understand. He was never your family and after what he did…during the war it was…if I had been you I’d have written him off as well, but your mother, Katniss? You didn’t think she deserved to know?”

“I don’t know Peeta,” she groans, rubbing her temples now. “I tried to call her a lot of times, but I would always get so confused and scared. Haymitch had been so mad at us, when he found out. She always told me I was too young after the first games but the before the rebellion. She’d have been disappointed and so unsupportive. I know it.”

“You didn’t think she deserved the chance to prove you wrong?”

“I don’t know what I was thinking! I just…I couldn’t, and then it seemed so important to you that we not keep it a secret.”

“So you lied to me?”

“Yes,” she whispers. “I’m sorry.” The last words come out in a whimper. “Please don’t be mad. You mean the world to me. I don’t want you to think that I did it because I was ashamed to marry you. I did it because I was…I was scared. I was too anxious to call, and I didn’t…you get this look sometimes when I get anxious or depressed. It kills me to see it, and I know you would have helped me but then…I’d have had to see that look. It was just too much, and I kept meaning to tell them once things got better but the longer I waited the harder it was to call or even write and…I’m so sorry.” Tears are beginning to slide down her face. I don’t move from my chair or reach for her. I’m watching her carefully. “Please don’t leave me,” she chokes out. At this I stand up and move the sit on her bedside, taking her hands.

“I could never leave you.” There’s a long pause.

“I’m stronger than this,” she whispers. “I’m not supposed to put things off or cower. I have taken on mutts and run into blood baths with my head held high. Making phone calls to my mother and Gale should not be too much.”

“Try to let go of what should and should not be too much. Accept yourself. Accept what is too much for you. Anything else will just make you feel ashamed.”

“But I’m stronger than this. Or at least I was.”

“You still are. I see how strong you are everyday. When you force yourself out of bed in the morning, even when you’re slipping away. I see it when you go hunting even though your limbs might feel like lead. I see it in you when you eat even though you aren’t hungry. I’m looking at you now and seeing how strong you are. Being pregnant is clearly draining you, scaring you, but you’re doing it. And you’re doing it so well.” I reach out a hand and touch her stomach. “Nobody can grow a baby as well as you.” She laughs.

“I didn’t know this was a contest,” she giggles. I lean my head down and press my forehead into her stomach. I lightly kiss her firm bump.

“You’re so lucky little girl,” I whisper softly. “You’ve got the best mommy, whose keeping you all warm and cozy and well fed. I love both of you so much.” I look back up at Katniss. She has tears in her eyes. I smile at her. I haven’t ever spoken to our child before.

“You love mommy even when she makes mistakes?” Katniss asks quietly.

“I do,” I answer. “I love mommy when she makes mistakes, and if it’s possible I love her even more when she admits to them. I love the way she takes responsibility for things. I love how brave she is and strong because she doesn’t try to blame other people or wiggle out of her mistakes. She owns up to them. I love mommy because she’s the most amazing strong person in the world, and I’m so lucky that she is going to be the person helping me raise our daughter. I can’t do any of it without her.” I lean forward and press my lips against hers briefly. I pull back searching her face for signs of distress. She places her hands on either side of my face.

“I’ve missed you,” she whispers, leaning forward and pressing our lips together again. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“Katniss,” I whisper gruffly. She catches my bottom lip between her own and sucks lightly. I move my hands from her stomach to her hips, and lightly clasp them, drawing light circles on her hipbones, leaning over her slightly. She tangles her hands in my curls, pulling me closer, our lips locked together hungrily. “We shouldn’t,” I gasp positioning myself over her. She ignores me and brings her lips back to mine, running her tongue lightly across my bottom lip. “Katniss,” I say firmly.

“Tell me to stop,” she sighs into my ear. “Tell me you don’t want to.” She pulls on my earlobe lightly with her teeth as she finishes breathing lightly into my ear.

“Can you handle it?” I ask breathlessly. I nip at her neck causing her to inhale sharply. I suck at a point just under her jaw. Over the past few years I’ve found this to be the spot that gets the best reaction. I’m moving slowly, wanting to hold back, though my hands are longing to tease out her breasts over her clothes. I’ve missed the feel of her, the scent of her skin.

“Katniss,” I say calmly, noticing her silence. She’s stilled slightly underneath me. I draw back, using every ounce of self-restraint I possess. She’s looking at me, biting her lip. Her breathing is a little shaky. “It’s okay,” I tell her rolling off her.

“No,” she says adamantly trying to pull me back towards her. “Don’t stop.” I wrap an arm around her and kiss her softly, sensually, but I don’t lick or suck or use my teeth. I keep her lips pressed intimately against my own. She tries to move her hands over my body, but I stop her, intertwining her fingers with mine. “Peeta,” she whimpers against my lips.

“We go slow,” I whisper. “If you start to feel overwhelmed or upset or anything other than pleasure, you tell me right away, and we stop.” She nods. I bring our lips back together and lose myself completely to my wife.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: So I have to be honest. I'm not completely happy with this chapter, and the more I think about it the more I feel that I should have combined it with the previous one. It seems a little slow, and Katniss just felt off when I was writing her for some reason. I was going for she's starting to come back, but needs a lot more support than she has in the past. The next one is better. Also thank you to everyone who left a comment. There were more on the last chapter than any other one I've posted. I'm starting to think you all really love to hate Gale. Keep commenting and let me know what you think!


	17. Chapter 17: Bored into a Stupor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings: One f bomb, blood, illusions to self harm, and an extremely infuriating Gale.

“We hit the twenty one week mark last Monday,” Ninda explains, shutting down the sonogram machine. She just gave us a long run through on every part of our baby. I’ve now seen our daughter from every angle possible. “That means we’re over half way through the pregnancy. Have you started thinking about names yet?” I glance at Katniss. Her hair is braided back again and a lot of color is starting to come back to her cheeks.

“No,” she informs Dr. Ninda, horrified. “It’s much too soon!” Ninda smiles kindly.

“I have to say darling, it’s actually not. Most couples do hold out on discussing those things during the first trimester when miscarriage is more likely. We’re well into the second trimester now, and everything looks great. You and Baby Girl Mellark are doing very well, both very strong. I’d start brainstorming. I’ve seen cases where parents take the whole pregnancy and a little bit beyond to agree.” With that she turns and leaves, dragging the sonogram machine with her. There are frown lines on Katniss forehead again. She’s focusing hard on the tree outside of the window, now completely bare in the winter air.

“I can ask Effie for a name book,” I suggest. “She told me that people here have them. Next time she comes, I’ll see if she’s up for more shopping.” Katniss winces, the spoils of Effie’s last trip are still sitting around the room, most unused.

“If Haymitch lets her in the door,” Katniss replies. I crack a smile, before leaning down and kissing her stomach slowly, splaying my fingers out across it. I’ve taken to doing this more often. Talking to it has also become a ritual. Katniss seems more relaxed when I dote on her baby bump. I’ve begun saying things like “there’s my girls” whenever I walk into a room she’s in. She sighs contentedly and settles back into her pillows. The exercise routine has helped as well. She eats consistently now, and is sleeping sounder. She’s less restless. I started baking cheese buns in the Capitol kitchen. Katniss inhales three every morning at breakfast with a glass of warm milk.

“Is today the day?” she inquires, breaking me out of my trance. I glance up at her, my fingers still tracing patterns across the skin where our daughter rests. I nod slowly. Gale is scheduled to come to inspect the facilities today. Yesterday I received a phone call from the president herself, apologizing for Gale’s behavior and informing me that he has been told his rights extend only as far as facility inspection. He is not allowed to demand to see Katniss, and he knows it. Aurelius, Katniss, Haymitch, and I all know it as well. We agreed it would be best if Katniss stayed in her room until he left. I stand up at this thought and cross to the window to pull the curtains shut. It dyes the sunlight streaming into the room a faint blue color, but shields us from any prying eyes that might try to linger in the courtyard.

“What do you think he’ll do?” asks Katniss.

“I’m not sure,” I tell her honestly. “Aruelius is convinced the staff won’t tell him why we’re here. I’m worried he’ll leak our location to the press. If the media puts them under pressure or Plutarch gets wind that the star-crossed lovers are expecting…” She nods slowly.

“He always had a bit of a bitter streak,” she answers slowly. I move around her in bed. We’re lying side by side now, and I pick up the remote. As I flick through the television, looking for a movie, Katniss curls up next to me, pressing her ear against her spot on my chest. I settle on a channel that is playing some terrible soap opera. Effie and I started watching it obsessively last week. Katniss rolls her eyes upon seeing my choice.

“What, it’s just for fun. Help you take your mind off things. Plus they’re playing it on repeat because of no interesting new gossip. Let’s enjoy the peace and quiet and watch a wonderful story about Capitol Citizens who try to trick, cheat, and murder their way into fame and power.”

“Sounds like a scripted version of the Games,” Katniss replies doubtfully.

“It is like a scripted version of the Games, which is great because none of it is real. When someone’s head gets blown off their character just stops showing up. Nothing bad happens. And no grieving family has to stand before some poor traumatized victor.” She huffs as though I’ve lost my mind, but doesn’t protest as the theme song ends and the heroine dominates the screen. I lean to the other side of the bed and press a button. Within minutes an attending appears with popcorn, smiling brightly when he sees what we’re watching. It’s become very popular amongst the staff. When Katniss is in long sessions with Aurelius I’ve taken to talking with the attendings and Effie about it. Meanwhile Haymitch drinks himself into oblivion, claiming it’s so mind numbly dull he’ll wind up being bored to death hearing us yammer on about it.

“I don’t understand,” Katniss says suddenly. “I thought she was in love with what’s his face.”

“Gwen,” I say, making sure to emphasize everyone’s names, “is in love with Stefan, but she’s pretending to be in love with Blake because he’s dying and has a lot of money that she’ll inherit once he’s gone.”

“Those are the most ridiculous names I’ve ever heard,” Katniss snorts.

“You seem to have forgotten the names of every single person we know from District One, but fine,” I say, “I’ll make sure to cross Gwen off the list of potential names.”

“We should probably actually keep a list,” she says lightly. I nod, but shush her because I’m missing what’s happening on the television. We watch the soap in silence and there is no other way to describe it besides bad. It’s just bad television. Plutarch must be desperate for some real entertainment to give the Capitol. The whole thing makes me nervous. I pick up the remote as the credits roll and begin to flip through the channels again when I hear the yelling. The voice is oddly familiar, muffled, but I’ve heard it before.

“You have no authority to tell me what I can and cannot do in defense of national security!” I glance at Katniss. She’s drifted off, no doubt like Haymitch bored into a stupor by the soap opera.

“And you have no authority here Peacekeeper Hawthorne! You are the head of district two, which last I checked we are not in! This is the Capitol, and I know you have been given strict orders from President Paylor to leave my patient _alone_! Seeing you will damage her wellbeing! It was irresponsible for you to come here in the first place! If the media gets wind that she’s here!”

“You can’t keep her from me!” Their voices are getting closer now. Without thinking I get out of bed and rush to the door pulling it open and locking it behind me. As the bolt clicks into place, Gale rounds the corner and sees me pulling the key out of the door. “Give me that key Mellark! That’s an order.” I shove the metal deep into my pocket.

“This is the room you’ve been barred from Peacekeeper Hawthorne,” Aurelius snaps, frustrated. “Mr. Mellark is holding the only key that opens it. If you touch it, I will have no choice but to demand Paylor dismiss you from your post for abuse of power and authority.” Gale pushes past Aurelius and is standing nose to nose with me. He towers over me, just like when we were teenagers, but I don’t back down. I have survived two arenas, torture, a hijacking, and a rebellion. There are scarier things in this world than Gale Hawthorne.

“Open the door Peeta,” he growls. I shake my head. “You swore you’d protect her!” he screams at me, “And clearly you’ve failed! Why else would you be here unless you let something get to her! Move! I don’t trust you with her anymore!”

“I am protecting her Gale,” I tell him calmly, but my blood is starting to boil. “I am protecting her from you. She’s made so much progress these past few weeks, which will only be undone if she sees you.” He ignores me and begins pushing on the door. It doesn’t budge. I silently thank the makers of the dead bolt.

“Hawthorne!” shrieks Aurelius in horror. “You will wake my resting patient!”

“Katniss!” Gale screams, pounding on the door. “Katniss open the door! I’m here! I’m here for you! I won’t let them hurt you again! Open the door!” No sound comes from our room. I’m sure Katniss is awake though. I suddenly realize this is the first time we’ve left her alone since the day she took the home pregnancy test. The color drains from my face. I turn to the psychiatrist.

“Aurelius…” He looks at me. “We haven’t left her alone since….” Gale turns to stare between the two of us.

“Since what?” he demands, “What happened?” Comprehension seems to be dawning on Aurelius’ face. He pushes Gale aside, and begins calling through the door himself.

“Katniss, this is Dr. Aurelius. I need you to make a sound.” We wait. Nothing. He turns to me. “Was she awake when you left?”

“Dozing,” I answer. “The screaming and pounding should have woken her by now.”

“Katniss,” he continues, turning back to the door. “I just need you to confirm that you are alright and that you haven’t done anything drastic.” Still no response. I yank my key out of my back pocket and jam it into the lock. My hands are shaking violently though, and it snaps off in the dead bold. Gale and Aurelius stare horror struck at the useless stick of metal now broken in pieces.

“Fucking flimsy garbage,” I holler throwing the half in my hand down the hallway. Without missing a beat I turn and go through the courtyard door. Gale is right on my heels. “Get out now Gale!” I say firmly.

“No,” he snaps. “You failed. You didn’t protect her, and I don’t trust you.” I don’t answer. I’m moving across the courtyard, picking up a heavy decretive stone along the path, near the willow tree. I step onto the grass and begin heading towards our window with the blinds drawn. “What are you doing?” Gale asks, panicked. I reach the window and begin banging the rock against it. The glass shutters beneath it and a small crack forms where the rock struck. I smack it again. It only takes five whacks for the glass to shatter. Broken glass rains down on the floor to our room. I still don’t hear Katniss move. I use the stone to break an even bigger hole and stoop below it, careful not to cut myself. The glass crunches underneath my heavy shoes, and Gale climbs in carefully after me as I pull the curtains back.

It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust to the dimmer light. The cool air hitting my skin gives me goose bumps. Things begin to come into focus. The television is still on, playing mutely in the background. The breakfast dishes are sitting on the coffee table in front of the couch, just where I left them. I scan the dishes quickly and immediately notice the knife I used to cut the bread open is missing. Panicked, my eyes search desperately for Katniss. She is no longer on the bed where I left her. Horror courses through me though when I see the streak of blood running across a pillow. I notice the bathroom door is open just a little. That’s when I hear the sobbing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am a mean person and I'm sorry. To be fair though, I haven't ended on nearly as many cliff hangers as I thought I would. I hope that everyone is still having fun hating Gale. I myself even wanted to smack him while writing this. Hopefully I'll update soon, but my travels are coming to an end this week, and I'll have some jet lag to overcome. Leave a comment, and I'll try to post something new soon!


	18. Chapter 18: You've Done It Before

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings: Self harm and blood.

“Get the door Gale!” I scream running quickly into the room. He is still standing confused by the window as I push the bathroom door open all the way. I find Katniss sitting on the floor by the door bloody knife in one hand. The only way someone could see her would be if they were to walk through the door and look down to their right. Her face is streaked with red. I grab her wrists and am surprised to find neither is cut. I pull up her shirt, inspecting her stomach. No blood there either. Her fingers are covered in it though. I hear the sounds of Gale fumbling trying to turn the dead bolt to let Aurelius in. Rancher is screaming from the other side of the door. I hear him demanding to know what happening.

“I don’t know,” Gale answers, “there’s a lot of blood.”

“I’ll need materials for stiches,” he’s screaming to an attending probably, “and blood bags. Someone get Ninda!” I’m scanning Katniss’ familiar body, as it trembles with sobs, my fingers running along her trying to find the source of the bleeding. Nothing on her legs ankles anywhere, all her skin seems to be intact. One side of her face though is covered with blood. Her hair is coated in it.

“Where did you cut?” I demand, prying the knife from her fingers. “What did you do?”

“I can’t listen to that voice,” she croaks out feebly. “I just wanted the screaming to stop.” Gale yells again and she winces. “Make him stop,” she moans, trying to cover her ears and recoiling in pain. I throw the knife away from us and push her hair back. There is a long thin cut going up the center of her ear. I check the other side and find it undamaged. Upon closer examination I realize the wound is not as deep as I thought. It’s shallow, and the bleeding has stopped almost completely. However I can see gashes inside her eardrum, although they don’t appear to go far in. I doubt she could get the knife in that deep. I hear the scrapping sound and a bang as Gale manages to pull the door open.

“Bathroom,” Gales wheezes, “they’re in the bathroom.” Rancher is upon us in seconds. He bends down next to me, eyes falling on the knife, which only fell a few feet away.

“Where did she cut?” he demands. I pull back her hair; vaguely registering it’s the same ear that was blown out during the 74th Hunger Games. Maybe she thought she could redo the damage quickly. Rancher pulls out antiseptic wipes and begins cleaning the wound. “Get an attending. I need to move her to a sterile environment.”

“Let me see her!” Gale yells from within the bedroom. “Let me help!”

           “Peacekeeper Hawthorne you have no right to…STOP!” Aurelius’ yells are cut short. Gale forces his way into the bathroom. He freezes when he sees Katniss. She’s staring at me, eyes out of focus. She does not register his presence. He drinks in the sight of her, pupils wide and dilated as he stares at her bloody face, before he spots her swollen pregnant belly. None of this is helping. Before anyone can say or do anything else, I pull Katniss into my arms and stand, carrying her bridal style.

            “Where are we going?” I demand of Rancher.

            “Emergency care,” he responds quickly. I push past Gale, who hits the wall, a shocked and horrified look on his face. Aurelius holds the door open and I practically run down two hallways and a flight of stairs before the clean glass doors of emergency care slide open. Rancher is behind, barking orders, and a gurney appears, soft restraints already tied to it. Katniss is still conscious as I lie her down. Her grey Seam eyes find my face, and I clutch her hand. Rancher starts talking.

            “You’re going to be fine Katniss,” he tells her, guiding the hand I am not holding into a restraint. “The cut is not deep. I’m just going to do stiches. You don’t need a blood transfusion. Afterwards we’ll do a few tests to determine if your hearing is impaired, but I don’t think you’ll need another full reconstruction.” I follow Rancher’s lead and slide Katniss’ other hand into the second restraint. “I’m going to give you a dose of sedative.”

            “No,” Katniss says firmly. Rancher pauses. A nurse has just handed him a needle full of the clear liquid.

            “Katniss,” he says calmly. “I can’t give you an numbing agent because it will harm the baby. Knocking you out is the best way to help you with the pain.” Her limbs are trembling. Katniss is shaking her head.

            “What if I want the pain?” she demands. “I deserve the pain! The things I’ve done, the people I’ve killed! I’m horrible and shouldn’t be spared a god damn thing!” Tears begin falling. “All those people and…and Prim,” she gasps. “It’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have let Gale develop something that I could hurt her. It’s my fault.” I bite my lip.

            “Peeta,” Rancher looks at me. I make eye contact with him. We’re standing on either side of Katniss’ gurney.

            “Knock her out,” I tell him firmly. The needle is in the side of her neck in an instant. Her head lulls to one side, and as Rancher begins to prep her ear for stiches, I know she’s a million miles away in oblivion.

            There’s a crashing sound behind me. I turn and see Haymitch and Gale barreling through the door. I’m still holding Katniss’ hand, which has gone completely limp. I see Gale’s lips moving but I’m not hearing anything he’s saying. I glance at Rancher, whose bent over Katniss’ ear. Haymitch touches my shoulder. I notice he’s pointing to a chair he just pulled up. I collapse into it. The emergency treatment center is just one small room with glass walls. There is only space in here for one patient. Gale’s pushed Haymitch out of the way. His face is right in front of me now, lips still moving. My own heart won’t stop racing. I can’t stop seeing flashes of Katniss’ face smeared in blood. I squeeze her lifeless hand even harder. The memory of her lying in a pool of blood on the floor of a cave swims before me.

            I look back at my wife. Her swollen belly is sticking out into the air, and I can see Gale gesturing towards it. I reach out subconsciously and touch it, holding my breath. The world seems to slow around me as I wait, both my hands on her stomach, splayed out as far as they’ll go. I’m waiting. I’m waiting. I’m waiting. I feel it, a slight but unmistakable nudge against my palm. I press back. I’m kicked again, but a little harder this time. The world seems to come back into focus and move at a normal pace again.

            “Irresponsible!” Gale yells. I shake my head a little, becoming aware of noise around me again. “You were supposed to protect her not make things worse! Support her lovingly, not put her into this horrible circumstance, and force her into motherhood! I should never have trusted you! You don’t deserve her!!” My daughter kicks again. I lean in closer to her.

            “Mommy’s going to be okay. You’re going to be okay. Everyone is going to be okay. Daddy is right here.”

            “Are you listening Mellark?” Gale demands.

            “No,” I tell him honestly.

            “I said get it out of her now! That’s an order.” I turn around, letting go of Katniss for the first time since I found her.

            “You have no right to order me to do anything. I’ve been the one who’s been here. I’ve been the one who’s taken care of her everyday, learned what can set her off and ways to calm her down. I’m the one who knows her. I’m her husband and her next of kin. That means I am the one who decides what is best.

            “You’re not the only one who cares about her! She clearly can’t handle this if she’s hurting herself! This is entirely your fault! You couldn’t keep your hands off her!” I rise now, rage boiling through my veins.

            “I will have you know, Gale, that she was coming to terms with this pregnancy, this baby. Yes we’re here because she had a panic attack and tried to hurt herself when she first found out, and yes she’s been struggling to talk about the pregnancy and deal with it in a meaningful productive way. But she was making progress. She hadn’t tried to do herself damage in a month! Then you show up and not only does she hurt herself, but she hurts herself worse than she ever did after finding out about the baby!” My chest in heaving in fury. “I told you! Aurelius told you! If you come here it will do her harm, but you refused to fucking listen because you’re so god damn stubborn you refuse to see how much pain you truly cause her! You want to know what she said to me, when I found her?” I don’t pause to let him answer. “She said to me that she couldn’t handle hearing your voice again that she just wanted to make it stop!” Absolute silence follows. Rancher is the only person still moving, as he makes very small stiches across Katniss’ left ear.

            “Who needs a drink?” Haymitch asks finally, pulling out his flask. I’m tempted to grab for it, but I resist, remembering my promise to Katniss. Gale reaches for it and takes a long swig. I don’t stop staring at him waiting for him to speak.

            “I suppose you want me to leave then,” he says slowly.

            “Wow, I think he’s got it,” I tell Haymitch sarcastically.

            “I can’t just leave her Peeta.”

            “Yes you can,” I respond snappishly. “You’ve done it before. Remember?” He doesn’t answer me.

            “What am I supposed to tell Mrs. Everdean?”

            “Nothing. I’ll call her myself.” We stare at each other for a few minutes, and then he makes his one last request.

            “Call me too. Once…once they’ve fixed her up so I know she’s okay, and call me again when…I mean you won’t be able to keep this a secret forever, and I’d just rather hear from you when the baby’s born than some news story…”

            “Fine,” I agree, “But you have to leave now. No waiting around for her to wake up, or coming back here or calling demanding to talk to her. You go back to Two, and I swear Gale if I so much as get a whiff of any press or media poking around here because of you, I’ll see to it that this little burst of unprofessionalism is the end of you career. Are we on the same page?”

            “Absolutely,” he agrees through gritted teeth. He takes one last swig from Haymitch’s flask, hands it back to him, and with that he’s walking out the door and out of sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so so so sorry. I did not intend to go this long without updating, and I know that was probably the worst part of the story to leave you hanging at. Really I feel horrible!! What happened was I was traveling, then I came home and had to get over jet lag. Then I moved into a new place and I had no furniture or internet and there were problems at my job because I hadn't been around in a while. I got distracted, but the good news is I'm still employed and I'm sitting in a furnished living room/dining room, complete with wifi. I won't be leaving you hanging that long again. Please leave a review and I'll update again soon.


	19. Chapter 19: Beneath the Shroud of Willow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings: Child Abuse

            “No it’s not that anything is wrong,” Ninda repeats firmly to a pale Katniss. “You didn’t hurt her. She’s just showing some minor signs of distress. A few hours on this IV will clear it right up.” Katniss woke up an hour or so ago. They hadn’t given her that much sedative this time. She had only been out for three hours. Ninda had been on hand and done an ultrasound as soon as Katniss was able. The picture had shown our daughter has an accelerated heart rate and that the fluid she is resting in has some hormones Katniss’ body had released during her episode. Ninda insists that Katniss be put on an IV with a calming drug that was friendly for pregnant women and ordered her to drink fluid. This would help her body flush out the hormones and slow the baby’s heart rate. She had only been on the IV for fifteen minutes, and so far she hasn’t been able to let go of my hand. Dr. Ninda has been repeating the same mantra the whole time. “I promise Katniss you won’t miscarry because of this. In fact in a few minutes you’re going to start to feel a lot calmer,” Ninda pats her shoulder understandingly. “I’ll be back to check on you in a bit.”

            She leaves and Haymitch Katniss and I are alone. He’s leaning against the wall, near the door where Ninda just left. I’m still sitting in the only chair by Katniss’ bed, holding her hand as she lies sitting up just a little. The IV is pumping the drug in from her other side. She’s watching the medicine drip into the tube and travel into her arm. My head is pounding, and my body feels achy. Probably from carrying Katniss here.

            “I could have killed her,” she whimpers. “I could have killed her.”

            “Well that’s obvious!” Haymitch snaps. I jump and stare at him, horror struck. “You mean to tell me sweetheart that you just figured out that if you damage your body the little fetus you got going in there, the one that is dependent on you for everything, might be affected! Someone alert the media! We’ve got an urgent public health announcement!”

            “Haymitch,” I say warningly.

            “No,” he growls at me. “I’m sorry but this ends now! Yes you could have killed her sweetheart! You also could have killed her any of the other ten times you tried to hurt yourself. Hell you could have killed yourself in the process! So now I want you to wake up! Stop being so god damn selfish and start being a mother! Protect her! Don’t do anything that might cause her harm! And if you can’t do that for her because you don’t feel a connection to something that has gills and lives like a fish inside your body, than at least do it for him!” He jabs his thumb in my direction. “Watching this is killing _me_! And I’m not your husband and that’s not my baby, which means I can’t even imagine what seeing this is doing to Peeta! So just STOP!” He stands by the door chest rising and falling rapidly. He looks at my wife, whose face is tear stained now. She gulps. These two have always had a connection. He can say things to her that no one else can, and she’ll accept them. She nods slowly. He nods back, pulls out his flask and leaves us alone.

            Katniss grey Seam eyes find my blue ones. She squeezes my fingers tightly.

            “I’m sorry,” she whispers.

            “Stop apologizing for things you can’t control,” I tell her firmly. I lean down, shifting her hand so the pads of her fingers face up. I press a light kiss into her palm. I sit up again. “I’m sorry for letting Haymitch lay into you.”

            “He’s right though. I can’t keep hurting you. It does hurt you…doesn’t it?” I draw in a shaky breath.

            “Seeing you in pain, tears me to pieces,” I whisper. She looks away biting her lip. I stand up. “Let me get you some water. Ninda said you have to drink.” I pick up the pitcher and begin to pour.

            “I’m so…so sorry,” she gasps. I turn to look and her and see her face is covered in tear tracks now. “Please come here. Come here and lay with me like we did in Twelve.” I set the pitcher back down and move the bed. I set the glass of water on her bedside table. She leans forward, and I swing my good leg behind her and pull myself onto the bed behind her. Once her body is resting soundly between my legs and her back is pressed against my chest, I grab the water and bring it up to her lips.

            “Drink,” I order firmly. She opens her mouth, and I lean around to watch carefully as she drinks deeply from the glass. I set the glass back on the table, and hold the back of my hand to her forehead. “You’re cold,” I comment. “Did Ninda say that was normal?” She stops, pressing her cheek against my own. Her hands are still restrained.

            “I’m not cold,” she insists. “You’re burning up!”

            “No, I’m not.” I say firmly. “I feel fine. Maybe a little dizzy, and my head is pounding. That’s normal though after watching your pregnant wife go through a trauma.” She turns and looks at me, studying my face.

            “Maybe it is, but your skin feels like it’s a hundred degrees. You’re pale too and covered in that sheen of sweat. Peeta, you’re running a fever.” I begin rubbing her back, feeling her tense muscles. She always gets very nervous whenever I have a fever. I think it reminds her of our first games when I nearly died of blood poisoning.

            “Then we should rest,” I whisper.

            “I can’t rest,” she snaps. “They just knocked me out for hours. I don’t want to sleep more.” I make a shushing noise as I pull her back into me. Now that she’s pointed it out, my head is pounding and I feel a little chilly.

            “Then keep me warm,” I whisper. “Or tell me a story.” She huffs as she always does at this request, but I can’t help it. Ever since I was ill in the cave, it has become my ritual to ask her for stories whenever I have the slightest ailment. “Katniss?”

            “Shush,” she chastises me, sounding like her old self. The calming drugs must be starting to work. “I’m trying to think of one you haven’t heard.” We sit in silence for a few minutes. I shiver a little and pull the covers over us.

            “It doesn’t have to be one I haven’t heard,” I tell her.

            “Please Peeta, we’ve only been married for a few years. I’m not out of stories yet. I’m just trying to pick a good one.”

            “In that case, can you make it a _really_ good one”? She scoffs under her breath. I can’t see her face, but I’m certain she’s rolling her eyes. “If I’d known it would make you act like your old self, I’d have gotten sick a while ago.”

            “Do you want to listen to a story or do you want to make me angry?”

            “Story.”

            “Well okay then.” She pauses again, but then starts slowly. “My father told me once that there was on old legend about the beginning of willow trees.”

            “Willow trees, like the one in the courtyard?”

            “Yes, and don’t interrupt.” She settles back more comfortably into my chest. “There was once a girl who lived in a village high in the mountains. She had long wispy hair and green eyes and skin the color of chocolate. Her mother and father had been killed, leaving her in the care of a wicked aunt. The aunt demanded that she scrub the floors and so she did. The aunt demanded that she wash the windows, and so she did. The aunt demanded that she cook all the meals, and so she did. They lived this way for years. The aunt would demand small things from the girl, telling her she would beat her if she did not comply and so the girl always complied.” I shutter a little, the mere idea of children being beaten, but Katniss senses my discomfort. She turns awkwardly and kisses my cheek, pressing her forehead into my temple. She continues in a whisper.

            “The girl grew up doing as she was told, but she always felt like she was in danger. She longed for the comfort of her mother’s embrace and a safe place to go. One day the girl and the aunt where walking through town. The aunt spotted an old blind beggar at the side of the road. The two watched as the richest man in town gave the old beggar two large gold coins. He patted the man’s cheek and moved on. Not long after that the blind beggar fell asleep. The aunt turned to the girl and said, ‘Go and take the two gold coins from the man, and replace them with two stones instead. That way he won’t be able to tell the difference in weight.’ The girl was horrified. She did not want to steal from the beggar, who wanted for so much. ‘No,’ she told her aunt. ‘Do it now girl or I will beat you to within an inch of your life.’ The girl still refused.” I wrap my arms around Katniss again as she shifts again. Now her back is pressed against my chest. I burry my face in her hair and inhale deeply, as she proceeds with the story.

            “The aunt grabbed the girl by her hair and dragged her into the woods. She took a tree branch and smacked the girl again and again until she collapsed bloody on the ground. The aunt threw the branch away and left the girl on the ground in the woods. The girl’s body ached all over, and she could not get up off the earth. She began to whisper to the grass, the wind, the sun, the sky, and the rain. She begged and pleaded with them for safe haven. She asked to join them and to create a place where she could protect everyone who needed protecting. The grass did not believe such a place could exist. The wind could no hear her request over the sound of itself. The sun burned too high in the sky to care about such trifles as the request of a poor abandoned girl. The sky covered everything in the world and had seen to much suffering and unkindness to find her desire sincere. The rain did not think it could help, but felt sorry for her and washed away her blood. The girl cried because she had nowhere left to turn. No one could hear her request, except for the trees.” I close my eyes and let my head roll back onto the pillow, settling into the bed a little bit deeper.

            “The trees heard the girl begging the grass, the wind, the sun, the sky, and the rain. They heard her cries of pain, and they looked out at the world that each of them created and housed beneath their branches. One tree said to the others, if our leaves were to just stretch down to the ground like the walls of peoples homes we could be safe havens. They agreed, but no such tree existed. They voted, and decided to create one. So the trees used their magic to turn the girl into one of them, with a dark brown trunk, and long wispy green leaves that stretch all the way from her branches to the ground. The girl, now a tree, created a safe space within her branches. She protected all those who stood under her and let no harm come to them, especially if they were children. As she grew old, new trees like her began to spring up all over the world and she gave them all her blessing to carry on her protection. For this reason all these trees carry the same name that she brought with her from her human life, Willow. No harm can fall upon anyone beneath the shroud of Willow.”

            I sit silently and without consciously thinking about it my hands find my wife’s baby belly. I’m running through the story and thinking about that odd little tree Katniss feels safe under. How its leaves can even make me feel as though they are separating me from all the danger of the outside world.

            “That’s it you know,” she whispers softly.

            “What’s it?” I ask. She jerks her head softly towards where my hands rest.

            “Her name,” she mummers. “Willow.”

            “Willow,” I say a little louder, pressing my palms more firmly against the bump. I feel a soft kick back. “Willow Mellark.” Katniss lets out a contented sigh. We stay like this in complete silence, until I drift off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I think this is my favorite chapter so far. It's probably the most artistic one I've written. I loved the story, and coming up with it and including it I thought really highlighted what Katniss wants for her daughter. I also felt that she had to be the one to pick the name. Let me know what you think, and I know that the name Willow isn't original, but it's just so perfect for their baby! I can't resist.


	20. Chapter 20: Not a Joke

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: Discussion of Self Harm

            I drearily open my eyes. It’s an overcast day, the clouds promising snow. My body feels clammy and drained. I’m resting on a set of soft white sheets, and I feel the IV in my arm. I look around and find Katniss sitting up in bed next to me. We’re back in our old room. I hear the background noise of the TV and let out a low groan.

            “Haymitch! Haymitch! He’s awake!” The TV clicks off and Haymitch swims before my eyes. I can smell the liquor.

            “Well, look who decided to join the land of the living!” I groan again and try to sit up, but they both put a hand on a shoulder to stop me. “None of that yet boy. I’ll call Rancher.” He swims out of my vision, and I gaze hazily at Katniss. She’s sitting up, a bandage on her ear, but her coloring looks good. No restraints hold her to the bed at least.

            “What happened?” I ask drowsily.

            “What’s the last thing you remember?” she asks.

            “I remember the story you told me about the willow tree and picking our daughters name, but…then I think I fell asleep.”

            “Your fever got really high. A few hours after that you started sweating and twitching. Rancher set you up on an IV of fluids and medicine to bring your temperature back down, but at that point you were already so sick…” She trails off and I know what happened. Earlier this year I’d gotten the flu and my temperature spiking had caused me to have an attack. Except it wasn’t a normal attack. I didn’t get violent or try to hurt anyone. I was a sniveling version of the monster that was terrified of Katniss and Haymitch. I’d tried to escape and wound up locking myself into one of the spare bedrooms, begging and pleading with the mutt who was Katniss not to hurt me. Katniss had gone to the bakery and gotten Liam and Yates, two of my employees, to help her break down the door and carry me to the hospital. I had no memory of any of this, but I didn’t wake up for three days. It was then that Birk had explained he’d been in contact with several specialists, who expected that if I ever got a fever high enough, the heat would trigger this special kind of attack.

            “What did I do?” I ask wearily.

            “You started screaming and crying an hour after Rancher put you on the drugs. They wound up having to restrain you. You tried to rip out your IV, and kept yelling that I was going to eat you to keep the mutt I’m growing alive.” I groan. She pats my shoulder. “It’s okay. It was an attack. Remember, the things that Peeta says aren’t real.” She brushes my hair back from my face. “You’re a little cooler though.” My eyes lock on hers.

            “You’re such a bad liar,” I reply, laughing a little. A sad smile plays across her face at the memory.

            “I hate it when you get sick,” she whispers. I nod understandingly.

            “But I’m okay? Real or not real?”

            “Real,” says the voice of Rancher firmly as he comes into the room. “You’ve just been out cold for about a week.” I blanch a little, surprised.

            “ _A week?_ ” I repeat shocked.

            “A week,” he confirms. “Open your mouth.” I oblige and he sticks one of the fancy Capitol contraptions in my mouth that tells people’s temperatures. “Your fever’s coming down though. We’ve been pumping fluids into you for a while, but we should try solid food soon.”

            “What do I have exactly?” I ask, confused.

            “I think it was just a mild infection probably, but in times of stress the body can’t fight off these kinds of things very well. Your immune system was just too weak and between that and your condition with the hijacking, things got a little out of hand. No need to worry though. You’ll probably be back on your feet in no time. Just stay hydrated and keep resting.” Katniss runs a hand over my forehead.

            “Did you get the tests results back?” she asks. She’s trying to sound casual, but I hear a tone of worry underneath the calm.

            “I did.” Rancher replies. He looks back at me. “I hope you don’t mind, but Katniss was very worried and to help keep her calm we drew some blood. Everything was normal. No nasty bacteria were present or anything like that. There was a small concentration of tracker jacker venom, but the research experts on hijackings tell me that’s normal considering he had an attack just a few days ago. Keep drinking water and everything will flush its way out.” I hear Katniss let out a faint sigh of relief.

            “Thank you,” I mummer, still feeling a little groggy. Rancher nods curtly.

            “I’ll be back in a few hours to see if we can try solid food. Have Haymitch get you some water for now. Don’t get up if you can help it, and try to relax.” He turns on his heel abruptly and walks out. Haymitch moves to the other side of the room, near the dinning room table and pours a glass of water. He and Katniss help me sit up, and I drink shakily. Katniss holds the glass steady with one hand and rubs my back with the other.

            “Deep breathes there sweetheart,” Haymitch reminds her. She glares at him. He looks at me. “She was convinced you were going to die.” He says it mockingly, but I don’t laugh. Katniss is easily upset when I’m sick. At the slightest sniffle she starts begging me to see a doctor or to call her mother. I never make fun of her for it. Given where it stems from, it’s never struck me as unreasonable. I feel a little lightheaded from sitting up so I hand her the glass of water and lean back into the pillows. A memory is swimming around in my mind.

            “I promised Gale we’d call your mother,” I say groggily.

            “I’ll take care of it.” Katniss says quickly. I narrow my eyes. The last time she said that she hadn’t called. “I will,” she insists. “You just relax. Try to take care of yourself. You scared me.”

            “I scared you,” I repeat a little annoyed now. My last memories of her consist of a lot of blood. As she can read my mind, Katniss moves her hair so it’s covering her bandaged ear. Haymitch must pick up on our small movements.

            “I’ll wait outside. If you need anything holler,” he says carefully walking out the door. I stare at Katniss blankly. She brushes the hair away from my eyes.

            “I scared _you_ ,” I repeat emphasizing the last word.

            “You’re angry,” she states. “You didn’t seem angry right after.”

            “Well I’m angry now. You tried to redo the damage to your ear with a knife. I thought you were doing better.”

            “I was! I am! It was just Gale…”she trails off. “Look Peeta, I’ve already talked with Aurelius a lot over the past few days…he doesn’t think it’s been a huge set back and he’s actually less concerned with me harming myself now than he was before.”

            “So what? You’re just okay now?” She bites her lips.

            “No….I mean. I’m still terrified, but…I’m not going to hurt myself or…or the baby. But I’m still on suicide watch for legal reasons.” I look her up and down carefully. She has more color in her cheeks than she did before, and her twenty three week pregnant belly looks like it’s grown significantly. She looks like she’s been eating. “I’m sorry…for…for everything.” I open my mouth to protest but she cuts me off. “And I know. I know it wasn’t my fault, and that I can’t control what gives me panic attacks. But I’ve been letting you run yourself ragged. I haven’t seen you that sick in years, and Aurelius keeps insisting it’s because you’ve been stressed and over doing things, and I feel horrible for letting it get to this point.” It all comes out in a long stream of words. She’s talking so fast my fever-ridden brain can barely follow.

            “It’s my job to worry about you,” I mutter, “both of you.” I roll over and wrap an arm around her stomach. I’m beginning to feel exhaustion creeping back over me. I’m starting to drift off again. “I’d be doing it no matter where we were or how you were feeling.”

            “Not a valid excuse,” she snaps. “You can’t take care of me, let alone us,” she places her hand above my own on her stomach and continues. “If you don’t take care of yourself. When was the last time you picked up a paintbrush? And you barely bake anymore.” I shrug. “Those are the things that keep you sane you know. Those are the things that help you deal with stress. You can’t just not do them. I talked to Aurelius, and the second you’re better we’re getting you back in front of a canvas or back in a bakery. Your choice.”

            “It’s not a big deal Katniss. I’m fine.”

            “What if something happened to you? What if you had a nervous break down, and I stopped hunting because I was too worried about you? How would that make you feel?”

            “Concerned for you,” I agree, “But you wouldn’t be leaving a baby alone as well. I’m not going.”

            “You are going, and Haymitch and I will stay here. I can’t go into the kitchen what with the knifes, and Ninda doesn’t think paint fumes are good for pregnant women.”

            “If you’re not going, I’m not going. I am never letting you out of my sight again.”

            “Peeta…it’s going to be such a shame when I wind up killing you out of sheer annoyance. Especially considering all the effort it took me to keep you alive in not one but two Games and a war.”

            “You made a joke.”

            “Not a joke.”

***

            “Has it been an hour yet?”

            “No,” responds Aurelius simply. “You know, I don’t know a lot about painting, but I was under the impression you have to pick up a brush for it to occur. Time might go by faster if you give that a try.” I scowl, which is something normally reserved for Katniss in our family.

            “I don’t feel like painting.” We’re sitting in a makeshift art studio that Aurelius threw together upon Katniss’ insistence. It’s just an unoccupied room, which Effie stocked full of paint, canvases, and easel’s. “It’s a waste of time.” Aurelius purses his lips.

            “Any reason why is that?”

            “Because it’s something I do to make myself feel better, and I’m fine. I’m not the one we should be focusing on right now.”

            “I disagree.”

            “I’m not having panic attacks and hurting myself.”

            “True, but you are going through something very stressful. You love and adore Katniss and you blame yourself for the fact that she got pregnant in the first place and for choosing for her to stay pregnant. Watching her these past few months and never leaving her side has damaged your psyche, which is significant no matter how insignificant it might feel in comparison to her struggles. I told you I wanted to start seeing you more regularly, and painting how you feel is part of your treatment. This is what you do Peeta, you take what is in your head and put it on the canvas so that we can all see what you are thinking. It’s how we help you.”

            “I don’t need help.”

            “You can think that if you want, but Katniss is distressed.”

            “I know she’s distressed about the pregnancy,” I cut him off.

            “She’s also distressed about you.”

            “Me?”

            “You had an attack a few weeks ago. You have been under so much stress lately it left you vulnerable, and you got very sick, leading to another attack. She’s worried about how you abruptly stopped doing everything you love. She’s asked you to treat this pregnancy the way you would if she were okay, and you aren’t doing that. You’re hovering over her, never leaving her, worrying about her constantly.”

            “Of course I am! We are in the Capitol were a number of terrible things happened to her. She’s been forced to deal with Gale, my attacks, the panic surrounding her pregnancy, and-“

            “I know Peeta! I was there, but worrying about all of that is not what she needs from you. She looks at you as if you are her ray of hope. What is it she calls you…her dandelion, her reminder that there is a way to fight for life. She’s asking you to be happy and to act happy. She wants you to give her hope. Think about her. What is something you could paint that would make her feel as though all of this is worth living through?” I pause thinking about his words, and then it all seems to fall into place. I pick up a brush.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: So I have to say I've been getting a lot of views on this story and a lot of great feedback, and I'm very touched and honored. I haven't been writing as much for it lately, although I still have a lot that I haven't posted, because I've been feeling confident enough to try some of my own stuff. So thanks for all the wonderful words and even the more critical comments! I'm glad people are enjoying it, and I hope you'll continue to let me know what you think!


	21. Chapter 21: So Happy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings: Mention of Self Harm

             “What have you and Aurelius been up to?” Katniss asks lightly. It’s something we’ve always shared with one another and the question is innocent enough, but I know she’s been leaning on him to get me to paint and bake. She’s checking in to make sure that he’s following through.

            “Reasons why taking the time to paint is worth it,” I respond. She picks up on my lack of enthusiasm.

            “It helps you,” she answers simply. “That’s all the reason you need. I’m not hurting you am I?” We’re in the huge swimming pool in Aurelius’ facility. Katniss is lying on her back, floating in the water, twenty-six weeks pregnant belly sticking up into the air. She’s bracing herself against me, her hands locked around my torso, the top of her head pressed against my chest, as I stand behind her in the shallow end of the pool.

            “No,” I answer, tracing imaginary icing along the parts of her arms I can reach. “You’re weightless right now Katniss. It’d be hard to hurt me.” I glance at the attendings who are standing off at the edge of the pool, watching us carefully. Aurelius only agreed to a swim if the attendings were present to try and stop Katniss from trying to drown herself in the water. Even then he had been reluctant, thinking the pool would be an easy place for her to hurt herself but Ninda insisted exercise would help with a healthy pregnancy. Swimming she said would jostle the baby the least. Haymitch is sitting down towards the deep end, pants rolled up, his legs in the water up to his calves, and a bottle permanently attached to his mouth.

            “Hmmm,” she responds, a slight scowl crossing her lips. I grin internally. She hasn’t been scowling as much as she used to. I’ve missed that face. “I wish I could feel this way all the time. I’m a giant lump with no coordination.”

            “You’re pregnant and glowing,” I correct her gently.

            “I’m a waddling duck,” she snaps. “And don’t change the subject. Why would you need a reason to paint? You’ve never needed a reason to paint before.”

            “I don’t like being away from you. What if something happens?”

            “Haymitch will take care of me. Right Haymitch?” Katniss calls the last sentence out to him. He looks up at us, drunk.

            “Whatcha say?” he slurs back. The bottle slips from his hand and falls into the pool.

            “See,” she continues, ignoring Haymitch as he jumps into the pool after his bottle. “I’m like his new flock of geese.” He’s sinking quickly to the bottom now. I’m grateful the attendings are already running towards him. I’m still not a strong swimmer, despite Katniss’ efforts to teach me.

            “You say this as though I am supposed to have confidence in it.” I tell her calmly as an attending pulls a spluttering Haymitch to the edge of the pool. The bottle in his hand is now filled with blue pool water.

            “It’s only an hour everyday. You should do what he says before he decides you could use two hours away from me. You’d have an art hour and a baking hour.” I decide to ignore her earlier request and change the subject.

            “Annie’s coming tomorrow.”

            “Yes, that’s what Aurelius told me. He said she isn’t bringing Finn though.”

            “No,” I confirm. “She’s leaving him with your mother actually.” Annie and Katniss mother became very close after the war. My understanding is they bonded over both having lost someone very dear to them in the rebellion. Even though we hear from Annie frequently, she refuses to tell Katniss how her mother is doing and visa versa. When I asked her about it one day she told me, she wasn’t going to make it easier for them not to talk. She has never hidden her disapproval about the coolness of their relationship.

            “I should tell you. It might come up when Annie visits…I still haven’t called my mother.” It’s been nearly a week since she promised she would.

            “Let me do it,” I tell her firmly. She pauses thinking this over.

            “No. I need to do it, and I need to explain to her why I didn’t tell her sooner…you could be in the room though if you like.” I touch her hair lightly.

            “Four more laps and we make the call,” I suggest. She sighs and nods, letting go of me to swim gracefully to the other end of the pool and back.

Thirty minutes later we’re in our bedroom again. I’m sitting on the chair next to Katniss’ side of the bed, my legs propped up on the mattress, while she sits with her head against the backboard. Her fingers hover over the numbers on the phone. I lean forward to grab her knee.

“It’s going to be okay. She’s your mother.”

“She abandoned me…twice.”

“If Willow had gotten married and…” I trial off still unsure of if she can bear the word, “if she hadn’t told you?” She begins to chew on her lip. Then she takes a deep breath, and starts pressing the keys. Holding the phone up to her ear I hear the dial tone, then a click and a muffled voice.

“Mom?” Katniss chokes out. There’s a long pause and then the muffled voice again. It’s talking quickly, clearly over come with panic and agitated.

“No I’m…I’m in the Capitol with Peeta and Haymitch.” She pauses, listening to her Mother. “No Mom they actually didn’t need to…” her voice drops. “They didn’t need you to come because…you aren’t…my next of kin.” The other end of the line is totally silent. “I should have told you…Peeta and I…we…we got married.” The silence stretches on. “Please say something.” I hear a curt brisk reply. “No. I didn’t want to hurt you by not telling you because we were so young, I was worried you’d disapprove so I put it off and the longer I put it off the more I thought you would be angry for me not telling you and” Katniss is cut of by a sharp reply. “Five years…I’ve been putting it off for five years.” I sigh, pressing my hand to my head, messaging my forehead briefly. I still can’t make out what Mrs. Everdean is saying.

“There’s actually more Mom.” The agitated voice stops. “We’re in the Capitol because…” the voice cuts her off. “Yes! I relapsed. Six years after the war and I relapsed, but only because…” Katniss cuts herself off this time. Her voice wobbling slightly, “I’m pregnant.” It’s barely more than a whisper, but it’s the first time she’s said the word out loud. I sit up taking my feet off the bed, and grab her free hand. Tears are sliding down her cheeks. “Please Mom,” she chokes out, “I know you heard me. Don’t make me say it again. Mom?” I hear a click and the line is dead. Katniss lets out a choking sound. I pull the receiver from her grasp and replace it on the holder. I climb over her wordlessly to my side of the bed and pull her into me. She buries her face in my chest, as I begin to stroke her hair.

“We don’t need her,” I tell her. She looks up at me and runs her fingers through my light curls.

“I was just hoping she’d be a better grandmother than mother,” she confesses. I nod understandingly.

“Don’t worry we’ll always have Effie. She can be acting Grandma.” A soft chuckle escapes Katniss’ lips, but it’s instantly followed by another choking sound. I wrap my arms around her tighter. Willow softly kicks against Katniss’ belly, which is pressed against my own stomach. “It’s all alright. You’re both here in my arms, and besides I love each of you enough for two people.” She runs a hand down my cheek.

“You’re going to be such a good father,” she whispers. A huge smile crosses my face.

“I’m going to be a dad,” I say wonderingly. She cocks her head at me and nods. I kiss her full of the mouth and wipe away her tears. “I love you so much, and I don’t know how you’re doing this.”

“Doing what?”

“Carrying our baby, brining her into the world even though you’re so scared. You’re the strongest, bravest, most amazing person I know. So thank you. Thank you so much. Thank you for doing all of this and hanging on through everything.” Tears are still falling silently down her face. She’s biting her lip.

“You’re happy?” she asks quietly.

“I’m starting to be. It’s not how I ever pictured it Katniss, but I think it’s going to be okay. For the first time in a long time, I think it’s going to be okay. You’re going to be okay. Give it time. She’ll come soon, and whether your mother is there or not won’t change what’s going to happen.”

“What going to happen?”

“She’s going to come, and she’s going to be beautiful. She’ll be so small, but full of love and life and joy. And Ninda is going to hand her to you, and you’re going to hold her and feel her, and you’re going to be so happy.” I kiss her on the forehead. “So happy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Okay, I am not completely happy with the way I wrote out how the conversation between Katniss and her mother went. I must have rewritten a three times but I just never seemed to get it right. I felt like it went too quickly, but I've noticed I'm getting less satisfied with each rewrite. In my experience that typically means it's time to let it go. So sorry if you felt like I moved through that too quickly. I'll be coming back to Katniss and her mother soon, don't worry. Hope you liked the rest of the chapter!


	22. Chapter 22: If Our Situations Were Reversed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings: Depression and heart break.

Katniss has a hard time getting out of bed the next day. She’s in a state where we can reach her, but she seems unable to make the effort to move her limbs more than completely necessary. Haymitch glances at me nervously as I hold out a cheese bun to her. In anticipation of this, I’d gotten up early to make them, leaving an attending to sit with her as she slept. Katniss takes it slowly and begins to tear off little pieces of it, putting them in her mouth. It takes her close to half an hour just to finish one. When I offer her a second she shakes her head. Haymitch raises his eyebrows at her.

“I’m sure you and that little one in their need more than a cheese bun to last till lunch,” he says coolly. He’s lost all his patience.

“Willow,” Katniss whispers. She runs a hand over the top of her stomach. “Her name is Willow.”

“Willow? What kind of a name is that?”

“It’s like the tree,” I say pointing towards the window looking out to the courtyard as I hold another cheese bun up to Katniss. She hesitates, and seems to glance at Haymitch for a split second. He isn’t looking at the tree I’m pointing to. His eyes are fixed on her. She slowly takes the cheese bun out of my hand and begins tearing off bits of it like she did with the last one. As the first bite enters her mouth he turns to look out at the tree.

“What is it with you people and plants? Katniss, Primrose, that damn book of yours.”

“Plants have meaning and significance,” she says.

“And what’s Willow?”

“Protection,” I say automatically. Haymitch looks at me surprised.

“She’s in your head boy.” I grin and look at Katniss, but she’s staring blankly out at the tree. “Whatever. I don’t care. Give the poor girl a weird name. She’ll have weird parents to match. Just keep eating cheese buns.” He turns on his heels and stomps out. I begin eating my own cheese bun as the door closes. I slide into the chair next to her bed.

“What do you want to do today?” I ask lightly. Between her hour with Aurelius, my hour with Aurelius, and our combined hour with Aurelius we still have a lot of time to kill. I look at the schedule the psychiatrist drew up for us. He keeps it posted on the wall and insists we stick to it, because schedules and consistency are good for people struggling with anxiety and depression. The more structure the better. “The schedule says today is an exercise room day, but if you want to go back to the pool…” She’s still staring out at the tree.

“I don’t think I have the energy today,” she says heavily.

“Why don’t I get Aurelius and see if he can move up your session?”

“I don’t want to talk to Aurelius,” she snaps.

“Then what do you want?”

“I want…I want to stay in bed and wait for a…a better mother.” I sit up and place my hand on her stomach. She looks at me sadly. “Please don’t say anything,” she whispers. “Don’t try to make me feel better or tell me it’s going to be okay. I just want to lie down and be sad.”

“We don’t recover by going backwards Katniss,” I say repeating a phrase we used a lot the first few years after the war. Whenever one of us would be backsliding into bad old habits that we were trying to overcome for our mental health and functioning, the other one would say this sentence. It was Aurelius’ catch phrase for us at the time. “Staying in bed all day is going backwards. It’s just one hour on the treadmill. Or if you prefer we could probably walk around the facility for an hour. Then Annie will be here tonight and we can have dinner with her. You just need to get up for those two things.” She sits quietly for a minute thinking about my words, and then she slowly puts the last bite of cheese bun in her mouth.

“Can you call Aurelius and ask him to move my appointment up?”

***

I close the door behind me. Aurelius agreed to come and talk to Katniss right away when I told him what happened. It’s just the two of them this hour, then him and I next hour before all three of us talk. I consider going to the temporary studio Effie set up for me to work on the painting for Katniss but I’ve been putting of a certain phone call. I sigh and make my way to reception. I ask to use the phone, and she instantly sets one in front of me. I dial information, asking for the office of the District 2 Peace Keepers. It rings a few times before a crisp male voice answers.

“Hello District Two law enforcement, how can I direct your call?” their receptionist asks.

“This is Peeta Mellark calling for Gale Hawthorne.” There’s a long pause.

“Peeta Mellark of the Start Crossed Lovers?” he asks, professional tone breaking a little.

“Yes,” I confirm, annoyed.

“Very well Mr. Mellark. Commander Hawthorne told me you’d be calling. I’ll transfer you.” An instant later I’m listening to some melody, waiting for someone to answer. After about minute or two there’s a click.

“Peeta?” Gale says urgently. “It’s been nearly two weeks are you saying it took her that long to recover?”

“No she’s fine. Well fine by comparison. I got sick and couldn’t call.” He doesn’t say anything so I go on. “Her ear is almost completely healed and she hasn’t tried to hurt herself since. We’ve been trying to keep her moving, exercising. Annie is coming today, which will do Katniss good since Annie’s been through this.”

“Mrs. Everdean called me last night,” he tells me suddenly. “She was furious and heart broken and…I don’t know Peeta. They haven’t had a good relationship in years.”

“I’m aware,” I say coolly. “Katniss is with Aurelius now talking about it. We’re helping her Gale.”

“What can I do?”

“The same thing you’ve been doing for years now, stay away, don’t contact her. It doesn’t help either of you.”

“It shouldn’t matter what helps me.”

“Well it doesn’t help her, and don’t try to pretend that seeing her pregnant didn’t destroy you on the inside. If she’d chosen you and our situations were reversed…” He doesn’t answer for a minute.

“When I was taken by the Capitol, Katniss was supposed to shot me,” he says quietly. “She didn’t obviously, but for a split second I thought she was going to. I wondered…what would it feel like to be shot through the chest by an arrow.” He pauses. I listen to him inhale deeply. “I don’t wonder anymore.” I message the crease out of my forehead with my thumb.

“Gale, her seeing you…you seeing her. It doesn’t help either of you. Right now, just talking about her on the phone with me…I can’t imagine this is healthy for you.” He doesn’t answer. “If it’s making both of you worse wouldn’t it be best to just…stay away.”

“If our situations were reversed, could you just stay away?” No. I don’t say that out loud though, but he seems to know. “Call me…when the baby comes or if…if something happens.” There’s a click and the line goes dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: So I'm not going to lie. After writing the last chapter I got stuck for a while. I kept updating because I've written way more than I've posted, but around this time I got a little stalled. I think it turned out okay though. And thanks to everyone who left a review on the last chapter to reassure me that the conversation with Mrs. Everdean was fine and realistic. I was probably just over thinking things, and you're all amazing for reading and commenting!


	23. Chapter 23: Truly from District Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings: Mention of Depression and Self Harm

Annie passes me the salad silently. I am sitting at the kitchen table in Katniss and I’s room, with her, Katniss, and Haymitch. We’re chewing without saying a word. Annie always content with prolonged pauses, and Haymitch content with his bottle. Katniss struggled to get out of bed before Annie arrived, and I can see how much she’s fighting to go through the motions. If Annie knows about the conversation Katniss had with her mother, she’s not letting on hints. I take Katniss’ plate and load it up with salad. At least she’s still eating. Haymitch sets his flask down heavily.

“Care for a swig Annie?” She shakes her head, glancing a distasteful eye at his bottle. Haymitch shrugs and proceeds to shovel food into his mouth as though there is no tomorrow. Katniss rolls her eyes, and Annie giggles.

“You know Haymitch if you ate like that in front of me when I was pregnant, I’d have been sick.” She turns to Katniss. “No morning sickness?”

“No,” Katniss answers shortly, sipping her water. I still have her plate in my hand and am piling it high with everything within reach.

“Well at least you’ve been blessed in that regard,” she says confidently, taking a bite of a small bird in orange sauce. Aurelius told me it’s her favorite. The kitchen clearly went out of their way tonight to keep everyone happy. There’s the pheasant in orange sauce, three different kinds of broth, Katniss’ lamb stew, a bottle of wine that Haymitch seems to be planning on finishing himself, and a basket of cheese buns I made earlier that day. Unlike when we would eat this food during the games, I feel relaxed and as if I’m truly able to appreciate it. I take Katniss hand and squeeze it gently.

“Yes very lucky, just panic attacks and mental breakdowns,” she responds wryly.

“Are you channeling Joanna now?” Annie asks. “Not filtering your thoughts and being brutally honest.” Katniss shakes her head. “It’s good though. Honesty is good. It keeps you grounded in reality. Delusions can be so dangerous, especially when you’ve lost so much. When I was pregnant with Finn I kept having these powerful dreams about Finnick. I would dream that he was in bed with me, touching my stomach, telling me he loved me and how excited he was to be a father. They started bleeding into my waking hours. Dr. Aurelius had to admit me. I passed most of my pregnancy here as well,” Annie says her eyes sliding out of focus for a minute. Katniss sits up a little.

“But you didn’t give birth here?” she asks. Annie shakes her head, slowly at first, then faster as if she’s coming out of a stupor.

“No.” She takes another bite of the bird, chews and continues. “I wanted Finn to be born in the District not…not the Capitol where…” she shudders again. Haymitch hands her his glass, which is full again, and she takes a swig. Coughing, Annie pushes the beverage back to him. “I didn’t want him born where his father died, where they used to put us in arenas. I wanted him to have a home and to be completely and truly from district four.”

“How is Finn?” I ask, as Katniss begins to slowly pick at the mountain of food I gave her, taking little bits of lamb stew.

“He’s good. He wants to learn how to swim. I’ve been taking him down to the ocean a lot these past few months. He’s practically a fish, just like his father.”

“Finnick always was an amazing swimmer,” I agree.

“He was whole when he was in the water,” Annie confirms. “It was pure joy for him and anyone watching him. If Finn’s the same way my heart might just melt. Watching all the little ways my son is like his father…it just gives me hope that there is still so much good in the world.” Katniss tilts her head to the side looking at Annie, before she finally takes a large bite of the lamb stew. My muscles relax as she begins eating with more conviction.

“How far along are you Katniss?” Since I’m normally the one to field questions about the pregnancy, I open my mouth, but Katniss beats me to it.

“Twenty six weeks,” she answers coolly. Annie’s eyes widen.

“And Peeta said it’s a girl?” Katniss nods. Annie claps her hands so excited.

“This is wonderful! Only fourteen more weeks! Have you started thinking about the birth yet?” I look at Katniss to see if she wants to answer, but she’s gone slightly pale at Annie’s words.

“We’ve been focusing on taking things one day at a time for now,” I tell Annie kindly, taking Katniss hand and giving it a squeeze. Annie nods understandingly and quickly changes the subject. The rest of dinner passes with no baby talk and once the staff has cleared the plates and Haymitch and Annie have both left Katniss collapses in bed fully clothed, clearly drained. I crawl in after her and wrap my arms around her, one hand resting over our child. We’re silent for a long time, so long I start to wonder if she’s asleep. She turns towards me suddenly, and I shift my hand from her stomach to her waist. We’re lying nose to nose now. She takes a deep breath.

“I want to go home,” she states plainly. I sigh.

“I miss it to.” I tell her. “We’ll go home soon.”

“No,” she corrects me firmly. “I want to go home now. I don’t want to stay here. It’s not good for me _or you_. We’re too close to…don’t pretend that you haven’t been feeling stressed here. I’ve seen you always jumpy and on the move, refusing to paint. You can’t relax, and neither can I. This isn’t home.”

“Katniss the Capitol is huge. We’re miles away from the training center and the city square and the president’s mansion. You can’t even see them out the windows.”

“That’s not the point. This isn’t home. This isn’t where I heal. This isn’t where you heal. This is where horrible things happen, and I won’t give birth to our daughter here.”

“Katniss we can’t leave. Dr. Aurelius is still treating you.”

“Bull shit,” she snaps. “You decided we would come here. I know you did, so don’t try to hide it. I’m not mad. It was the right decision at the time, but now I’m doing better. It’s time to go home.”

“You’re still not eating enough and it took ages to get you out of bed this morning,” I remind her gently. “You could relapse at any moment. It’s safer for us to stay here.”

“You want our daughter born in the Capitol? The place where they tormented and tortured you! Shot you up with tracker jacker venom and distorted your memories so you couldn’t tell what was real and what they made up. Where they made you believe that I was going to kill and maim you!” I’m on my feet suddenly, anger coursing through me, at her, at the memories she’s evoking, and the fact that she’s evoking them.

“Stop talking now,” I growl. She falls silent. Sitting up in bed, watching me carefully as I grind my teeth and clench my fists. She seems to sense she’s gone too far. I turn away from her, grabbing the back of a chair by the dinning room table, clutching it. I can feel that poison coursing through me again.

“Peeta…” Katniss says slowly. “Peeta! It’s okay. I can get Dr. Aurelius.” I shake my head, taking deep steadying breaths. My knuckles are white on the back of the chair. She didn’t mean to upset me. She’s just scared and confused like I am. She’s not going to hurt you or the baby. It’s okay. I repeat the same thoughts over and over again for…I don’t know how long, but my grip on the chair loosens and my blood begins to pound less. I let out the breath I’d been holding in with a gasp and I feel Katniss’ hands on me. She’s standing right next to me, rubbing my shoulder soothingly.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers. I nod. “This is why…we can’t stay here Peeta,” she says, just as quietly. “I don’t want to stay here.” I shake my head.

“I can’t take you home Katniss. You’re too…if you hurt yourself again…I can’t lose you.”

“I won’t!”

“You cut your ear open less than two weeks ago. It took me half an hour to convince you to get out of bed this morning, and you’re still not eating enough! We cannot go home yet.”

“Can we at least talk to Aurelius about it?” she asks. I can hear the annoyance in her voice, and I glance at her. The scowl is back. I nod. She seems to relax. “Come to bed.” I hesitate. “Please Peeta. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought up the hijacking. It was a low blow.” She takes my hand. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.” She squeezes my fingers and I allow her to guide me back into bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter and the next one might be a little more awkward. I wrote these when I was coming out of writer's block. Peeta is going back and forth on the issue of going home, and between the conversations with Katniss and Peeta and Aurelius and Peeta it all turned out to be very long. I had to break it up because I was worried it would get tedious, but the chapter after the next one is BIG. I'm not saying anything else. 
> 
> And a big thank you to all of you reader who have been commenting! I've reached over three hundred and that means so much! Thank you all so much, and I'm so happy (pun intended) that you're all enjoying it.


	24. Chapter 24: I'm Scared

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: Discussion of Self Harm and Abortion

I’m sitting in the room Effie converted into my studio; slowly guiding a brush over the canvas, bring to life the image in my mind. After weeks it is finally coming to resemble the dream I’ve been using as my reference, Katniss sitting in her favorite rocking chair by the fire a small bundle of blankets containing our child resting in her arms. It’s been about a week since I started this painting and I still need a few more days before it’ll finally be done. I’ve had plenty of time today though. Katniss’ session with Aurelius has been extended. I know she’s asking him to allow her to back to District 12. He’ll never agree. They’ve been talking for nearly two hours now. He will probably come directly here to talk to me afterwards. I’m mixing colors to capture how Katniss hair looks in firelight, when the door opens and the old psychiatrist comes in. He seems spent. Pulling up a chair to sit next to me, he observes my work.

“Your hands are steady,” he comments. “That’s good. No tremors after you almost had an attack last night.” I glance at him, but don’t say anything. “She told me.”

“I assumed.” I bring my brush up to the canvas and begin adding light detail to Katniss’ hair. I apply the paints sparingly to the canvas, putting it in like wisps of smoke in her dark brown plaits. “What did you tell her?”

“The truth, which you aren’t going to like Peeta.” I raise my eyebrows, inviting him to continue, but I don’t take my eyes off the painting. “She’s no longer under legally mandated suicide watch, and provided she does not hurt herself again, she won’t have to be. I have no means to legally keep her here, but my declaration of temporary insanity that I made back in District 12 still stands. She cannot check herself out and refuse the rest of her treatment, because you still have the authority to make medical decisions for her.”

“We need to get that removed,” I tell him softly but firmly. I don’t like having this power over her. It makes my skin crawl. It feels as though I am being forced to take something that is innately hers and control it as she watches helplessly. “She’s capable of making her own decisions.”

“I am not sure if I agree. She’s exerting herself in small ways yes, but she is still struggling to come to terms with larger issues in her life, and is failing. She’s avoiding a lot of things Peeta. She doesn’t want to talk to me about her mother or Gale. She didn’t even want to ask Annie for advice about what to say to her mother, even though Annie and Mrs. Everdean are quite close. Annie could be of some help. Now this rash decision to go running back to District 12 instead of finishing her treatment and waiting for the baby to arrive…”

“It’s not rash. She’s not happy here. She doesn’t want our child to be born in the Capitol. This is the place where they dressed us up for slaughter, where they threw us into two arenas, where they tortured me into forgetting who I was and who she was, where Prim and Finnick died. This is where we die, not where we live.”

“Peeta, she hasn’t said a word about the Capitol in any of our sessions and neither have you. Why is this coming up now?”

“Annie said some things last night at dinner. She’s right. I don’t want our child to be born in the Capitol either.”

“Annie’s situation was different Peeta. Annie was not harming herself the way Katniss has. Annie was still capable of making her own decisions.”

“I think Katniss is capable of making decisions again. She decided what to name the baby, and she decided something about the way she wants the baby to be born. I love the name she picked out for the baby, and I see the logic in why she decided that we should go home. I don’t think she’s as bad as you’re making her out to be.”

“So…are you going to take her home?”

“I’m not sure, but if I do decided that we should leave, I won’t be taking her anywhere. I’ll be offering her a chance to if she truly thinks it’s a good idea.”

 ***

I walk into Katniss’ room a few minutes later, hands splattered with paint. She sits up when I walk in, looking at me hopefully. I close the door slowly, watching her, as she looks me up and down.

            “Did he tell you?” she asks. I don’t need to ask what she’s talking about. I nod and slowly make my way over to the chair next to the bed. I collapse in it, already emotionally drained. “You think it’s a bad idea,” she whispers.

            “I do,” I confirm. “But I’m not going to make you do anything.” She cocks her head at me, clearly confused.

            “That’s what you’re supposed to do you know. You’re supposed to decide what I’m going to do.” I shake my head.

            “I can’t do it again, Katniss. Back in Twelve when I had to decide about you and Willow…I thought I was going to be sick. It tore me up on the inside and made me feel dirty all over. When need to talk to Aurelius about the temporary insanity diagnosis and how we can get it removed so you don’t need a proxy anymore.” I don’t take my eyes off her face. She bites her lip.

            “Thank you,” she whispers. I wave it off, but she shakes her head at me. “Don’t. Don’t undermine yourself and act like this isn’t anything. I know that making this decision was impossible. I don’t want to put you in a position where you have to make another one like that.” I scoot my chair closer to her bed and slowly begin to lift my hand so it’s almost touching her bump. A lump is forming in my throat and I find myself compelled to voice a fear I have been unable to acknowledge even in my own mind.

            “I’m scared that I made the wrong choice. That I forced you into something you don’t want and you’ll wake up one day and hate me for it.” She grabs my hand and guides my fingers up to her face. As she rests them on her cheek, I’m forced to move my eyes from her growing stomach, to her face. Her eyes are fierce as she holds my hand against her cheek. She looks like Katniss again.

            “No.” she begins firmly. “I will never ever hate you for anything, especially not this.” She leans forward to capture my other hand and presses it against her belly. “I can’t tell you that I’m happy now or that I feel safe, but I feel like I’ll be happy soon. I don’t think I’d be able to say that if you’d chosen abortion. Please don’t doubt it.” I press my hand firmly against her swollen stomach and am rewarded by a swift kick. I nod, the lump in my throat overwhelming me as I feel tears beginning to form. “Remember what you said? You’re going to be so happy. It’s the same for you.”

            “That’s what you said to me,” I whisper, “when I found you at home in twelve. You said I was going to be happy and you wanted to die.” Her grip on both my hands tighten.

            “That was months ago Peeta,” she tells me calmly. “It’s different now. I don’t…I don’t think this will destroy me anymore.”

            “But you’re not sure…I’m scared Katniss. What if you relapse again?” She shakes her head biting her lip.

            “I don’t know.” We sit in silence for a few minutes before she speaks again. “If it would make you feel better, we can give it more time. Another week, and see how I’m doing.” I nod.

            “Okay,” I agree quietly. “Another week.” We don’t make it a week before leaving becomes out of the question.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully that wasn't too mean. The next one is the big one. I'm really proud of a lot of the chapters coming up, so I hope that you're all still planning on still sticking around after all these more conversation based chapters. Please let me know what you're thinking!
> 
> Also if you want to read more of my work while waiting for me to update, I posted a new story yesterday, called Black Beans. It's another work from Peeta's point of view about him trying to cook for himself after the war. It's a one shot so no cliff hangers on this one at least.


	25. Chapter 25: Inhale. Exhale.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings: Two F-bombs, mention of suicide, and a panic attack.

I wake up on day four, stretching next to a still sleeping Katniss. I’m planning on popping doing to the kitchen to do some baking before she wakes up. We’ve been eating so many cheese buns, I’m planning on making cupcakes today. Glancing at Katniss, I note how much better her coloring looks. She’s been exercising regularly, gaining her strength back, and eating consistently. More consistently than perhaps any other time during the pregnancy. Her belly has expanded even more the past few days, and Ninda says that she thinks the baby is catching up on some growing now that its nutrient source is consistent. I kiss Katniss on the cheek before I go. The cupcakes are a surprise, and I’m excited to see the look on her face.

Getting out of bed I throw on a clean t-shirt and a pair of long durable blue pants. They’re a very old style called jeans and apparently they were created before the dark days for manual labor. There are a lot of them in District 12, but I’ve taken to wearing them for their comfort rather than durability. I creep out of the room, slowly closing the door behind me. As I walk more quickly towards the kitchen, I’m thinking about what flavor to make the cupcakes, trying to recall Katniss favorite. I don’t immediately notice the shadows in the windows or the change in noises as I make my way along the ground floor towards the kitchen, but as I pass reception I see them. There is a massive crowd of people pressed against the locked glass doors. My heart sinks as I recognize notepads and flashing lights of cameras. I try to dive back down the hallway, but it’s too late. They’ve seen me. I can hear people screaming my name and reporters firing questions at me.

“Is it true that you and Mockingjay went to the Justice Building five years ago to make your secret marriage official?”

“Can you confirm or deny that Katniss has relapsed into a state of madness, similar to the one that caused her to assassinated President Coin?”

“There are rumors flying around that the Star Crossed Lovers from District 12 are expecting a child. Is this the reason for your wife’s prolonged stay in the hospital?”

I can still hear them, even though I’m backing very slowly down the hallway now. I glance out the window and notice a few faces pressed to the glass staring at me. They are not reporters. They are not firing questions at me. They are simply gazing at me, as though drinking in the sight of me. I feel bile rising up my throat. I remember what happened to Annie when it got out that she’d relapsed and was staying in this facility. Crazed Game Loving Capitol Citizens had come, hoping to soak up the sight of a Victor. As Annie told me about this over the phone I compared them to addicts, looking for a Hunger Games fix. All the hair on my body seems to be vibrating.

I turn and run pell-mell back towards the room I share with Katniss. I push through the door, banging it against the wall, not caring if it wakes her. I run past her, not noticing if she’s still asleep or not. I can’t seem to focus on any details for the room. I crash into the bathroom and just drop to my knees above the toilet just in time. Shaking violent I throw up for…I don’t even know how long. My eyes closed, I can still see the hungry half mad expressions of the people with their faces pressed against the window. Just picturing it makes me vomit again and again and again. After a few minutes of dry heaving there seems to be nothing left in my body. I blearily make my way out of the bathroom and collapse into bed. Eyes closed I become aware of a foreign voice. I can’t make out what it’s saying though. It sounds oddly familiar and it fills me with a feeling of dread and nerves. Slowly my brain begins to function again. The second before I can begin to process what the voice is saying, I register that it is Caesar Flickerman I’m hearing.

“We are just now receiving reports from those at the facility run by Dr. Aurelius, who viewers will remember as the psychiatrist treating Katniss and Peeta after the war. He testified at Katniss’ trail about her mental stability. Those at the cite of his facility outside of town have confirmed seeing Peeta Mellark through the windows, although Mr. Mellark did not come out or respond to reporters questions. Those at District 12 have also confirmed that Victor’s Village is empty of all residents, meaning that Haymitch Abernathy, victor of the 50th Hunger Games and Second Quarter Quell is likely with the Star Crossed Lovers in the Capitol. Our anonymous source claims that the Victors are at the facility because upon finding out that she was unexpectedly pregnant, Mrs. Katniss Mellark, formerly known as Miss Katniss Everdean, attempted to commit suicide and do herself physical damage.” I might be sick again.

“Turn it off sweetheart,” someone growls from a distance. I feel Katniss shift beside me. I hear the click of a button, and mercifully Cesar’s voice stops. I let out a breath and sink deeper into the mattress beneath me. I feel rough hands on, forcefully flipping me over and pulling me into a seated position, feet just touching the floor. My vision still seems fuzzy, and those same rough hands push a glass of something into my own fingers. I hazily begin drinking it, becoming aware of a pungent smell of liquor as I do, but the substance passing through my lips is water. I drink deeply and gratefully, my heart rate slowing with each sip. The world is coming back into focus around me. I see Haymitch sanding in front of me, a second glass of water clutched in his hand. I reach for it and he passes it to me, taking the empty one away. I drink this one slowly. Gulping and then taking a deep breathe of air. I turn around to see Katniss lying on the bed behind me. Propped up by a giant pile of pillows. She’s staring at the television. I glance at it, noticing that it’s not off, just muted.

Caesar Flickerman has pink hair these days. It’s bright vivid artificial color that makes me want to throw up again. His suit matches almost perfectly. His lips are still moving but with the sound cut off I have no idea what he’s saying. The text going across the screen beneath his face just reads, “BREAKING NEWS: TRAGIC NEW ADDISION TO THE STAR CROSSED LOVER FAMILY.”

“Turn it off,” Haymitch repeats following my gaze. Katniss clicks the remote again and the screen goes black. We sit in silence for a few minutes, me still sipping water. Finally Katniss breaks it.

“I’m never leaving this room ever.”

“You don’t want to,” I tell her, shuttering at the memory of the faces pressed against the window, the ones that weren’t firing questions. The door opens and Aurelius walks in. He looks beaten down, with dark circles under his eyes and his shoulders slumped.

“So…” he begins softly, but nothing follows. He seems to be at a loss for words.

“Get Plutarch on the phone,” Haymitch snaps, pushing past the doctor towards the door. “I want to yell at someone.”

***

            A few minutes after Haymitch left we turned the television back on. Neither one of us seems to be able to stop. They’re replaying everything, old propos, clips from our games, clips from Haymitch’s games, our old interviews, chariot rides, photos of Katniss in Capitol wedding gowns, video of Coin dying, our family and friends being interviewed. They’ve even cut in a few clips from the past five years were various people in entertainment speculate about what we might be up to now. It’s not until they reach my interview from the Quell that my blood begins to boil. I watch as seventeen year old me lies seamlessly to Cesar about a secret toasting and a baby.

            “Heart breaking,” Cesar says as the camera cuts back from my old interview to his face. “We all of course watched helplessly in those games as a poor pregnant Katniss was thrown back into the arena where she faced battles with other tributes, poisonous fog, rabid monkeys, spinning islands, Jabber Jays, blood loss, server dehydration, not to mention electrocution when the force field blew out.” He stops to dab at his eyes. “I mean who among us did not shed so many tears when rumors reached us during the rebellion that Katniss had lost their baby. I know that despite everything I watched her struggle through in the arena, I had hoped…” he trails off, apparently overcome by emotion.

            “Understandably of course,” he continues, voice shaking a little. “Katniss must be…must be very burdened with the weight of this pregnancy given her previous miscarriage. I’m glad to hear she’s getting the help she needs.” With one last dab at his eyes he perks up a little, “And now we’ll be going to the site of the facility live.”

            “Oh for the love of!” Katniss shrieks, as the picture changes to what must be the outside of the hospital. Since I was sedated when we arrived, I’ve never seen the front of it. I feel sick again and turn off the television before I can get a glimpse of any eerily familiar faces. Haymitch walks in, the instant the screen goes black, and I can tell by the look on his face, he knows we’ve been watching.

            “Where’s Plutarch?” Katniss demands, anger in her voice. “What the fuck is he thinking letting this go on?” Haymitch shakes his head.

            “He’s been overrun. People demanding details about the pregnancy, the hospitalization, the suicide attempts. He says the public force is overwhelming and unstoppable. Even without the news broadcasts, half the Capitol will probably be knocking at the door within the hour.”

            “There were no suicide attempts,” I say dully, still feeling nauseas. That has been something I’ve been clinging to. She’s only tried to hurt herself and while that might put her life in danger, she’s never intentionally been trying to kill herself, just talking about it.

            “That’s what they’re reporting though,” Haymitch replies, collapsing into the chair next to Katniss’ side of the bed. “Suicide attempt, self harm, makes no difference to them. It’s the story and the image. They love the tragedy, and unplanned pregnancy followed by suicide attempt is a better audience manipulator.”

            “Disgusting,” Katniss whispers. Neither Haymitch nor I disagree. The door opens again and Aurelius comes in. He still looks disheveled.

            “There are too many of them,” he confessing, not looking any of us in the eye. “Security cannot force them off the premises. I’ve contacted the President to ask the Peacekeepers to come and enforce patient rights to privacy.”

            “Where are they even getting this information?” demands Haymitch. A sinking feeling fills my stomach remembering how it was the staff’s fault when Annie’s visit was leaked. I don’t want to think about a staff member leaking this. I’ve come to like a lot of the attendings. Aurelius shakes his head.

“Once the peacekeepers arrive to manage the crowds, the head of security will be able to launch an investigation to determine if the leak came from inside the facility. Aside from that there is nothing else I can do…other than of course continue treatment. I know though that today was supposed to be a day to walk around the facility, but given the circumstance I’m hoping that Katniss, you might be open to a change in schedule.”

“I’m not going,” she tells him flatly. “I’m staying in this room, where no one can hurt her. I wont’ let them have her.” The last sentence comes out as a growl.

“Katniss,” I begin gently, but she cuts me off.

“NO! I won’t do it! I’m not leaving!! Not till they’re all gone and they’ll leave me alone! This is something that she will never experience! EVER! I won’t let them touch her or take picture of her! If they know about her…they’ll take her!” She’s pressing her body away from the door, eyes darting around desperately. “They’re going to take her. They’ll rip her away and throw her into a…they’re out there now aren’t they…Annie told me about them. The once that miss _it_. How they press their faces against the windows.” She starts shaking violently. “They want to bring the games back. I know they do! If they succeed…they’ll put her in for the…the tragedy.” She starts hyperventilating.

“Katniss,” Aurelius says firmly. “Remember the questions you need to ask yourself. Do you know for fact that the Games will return and,” but he’s cut off by Katniss suddenly jumping out of bed and throwing a pillow at him.

“Just stop!” Tears are falling down her face, leaving trails of salted water on her cheeks. “Why do you have to fix everything? Is it too much to ask for me to simply feel how I feel without being pressed to train my brain to think differently or challenge my irrational thoughts! Can’t I just have one fucking minute!” She throws another pillow at Aurelius, but it’s so half hearted it doesn’t even come within three feet of him. She crashes back down on the bed, face down, bouncing slightly, hyperventilating, now laying parallel with the headboard. Aurelius is standing dumbstruck. That is probably the most open Katniss has ever been with him

I react instinctively, moving across the bed, I lift her head so it’s now resting on my leg. I run my fingers through her hair finding her scalp, which I begin to message lightly. I can feel her tears soaking my jeans, as my thumb runs back and forth just above her left ear. The cut, I see is nearly healed. I don’t make an effort to shush her. Instead I wait patiently for her emotions to run their course, while Haymitch and Aurelius stand uncomfortably, glancing at each other. Finally her shaking body begins to still.

“Back when I was a kid,” I begin slowly, once I’m sure she’s quiet enough to hear me. “My dad used to make these people out of dough for Delly and I play with. Occasionally, if it’d been a good day at the bakery and we could spare the dough he’d bake them and let Delly and I eat them.” Without registering my actions completely, I begin to braid Katniss’ hair, weaving it back and forth slowly.

“This one day, Delly was sick but it had been a good day. My dad offered to make the dough children and let me bake them and take them to Delly the next day, as a gift. I was overjoyed because I almost never got to give people things. I was so excited, I couldn’t even stand still while they were baking.” I’m half way through the braid now.

“The second my dad said they had been in long enough, I dove to grab them out of the oven, but I’d never taken anything out of it before. I didn’t know you needed the gloves. I burned my palms on the dough and the backs of my hands and fingers on the coal. I screamed. My dad pulled me away from the oven after only a few seconds, but the damage was done. I couldn’t feel anything but the pain in my fingers. It felt like my skin had melted off.” I feel her body tense at the idea of pain, and her fingers grip my leg tightly, as though she’s reassuring herself that I’m here and alive.

“He ran my hands under cold water, but I wouldn’t stop screaming. I begged him to make it stop, and to kiss the pain away like he did when I scrapped my knee or when my mother…” I swallow unable to finish the sentence before continuing. “He kept apologizing and wiping my tears away, saying he couldn’t make it stop, which only made my cry even harder. Luckily it was winter and he took me out to the backyard with a rag, and we wrapped my hands in the snow. It helped a little, but I still couldn’t stop crying. He brought me back inside and wrapped me in a blanket, and rocked me back and forth in the bakery kitchen. He told me that he was sorry but that sometimes the people we love can’t make the pain stop and the best we can do is to just power through it. We can’t let our problems simply make us stop living our lives. He said when you just had to work through the pain the best thing to do is breath in and out. Don’t think about how you’re going to heal or come out alive, just think about how it feels to fill your lungs up with air, and then let it go.” A lump is forming in my throat. I’ve reached the end of her braid.

“Just breathe through it. Inhale. Exhale. Don’t think about how we’re going to make it through this. Just listen to my voice. Feel the air passing through your nose, and the blankets underneath you, how my jeans feel pressed against your face. Feel Willow inside you. She’s there right now. Focus on that.” Katniss’ breathing begins to slow, but she does not loosen her grip on my leg, or make any move to get up. I look up at Aurelius and Haymitch. My former mentor is shifting his weight from foot to foot awkwardly. He can’t seem to bring himself to look at Katniss. The pain on his face is evident. Aurelius, meanwhile, is looking at me with awe, mouth slightly ajar.

“I want to know who did this,” I hiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had you all going there didn't I? It sounded like she was going to relapse, but no. It's media frenzy time. At least I didn't leave you in suspense on a cliff hanger while I moved this time! Let me know what you're feeling or thinking, and I'll update soon!


	26. Chapter 26: They'll Eat You Alive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings: None for this chapter.

“Turn that damn thing off!!” Haymitch’s voice booms at Effie and I. The staff snuck Effie in through the back, and we’re sitting on two chairs perched in front of Katniss’ bed facing the television. It took a lot of channel surfing through the endless stream of news about Katniss and the baby and “live” footage of the front of the facility, but we managed to find the soap opera we’d been watching before the news broke. I don’t even know why they bother. All they can show is the front of the building, which none of us ever leave. Annie is still here. Her visit has been extended a few days. Aurelius is hoping the frenzy will die down, and he’ll be able to sneak her out the back. It’s one thing to smuggle Effie in. It’s another to smuggle a victor out, especially given how jealous a lot of the Capitol women are of Annie because of her relationship with Finnick. She’s sitting on my side of the bed, propped up on a pile of pillows identical to the one Katniss is resting on beside her.

“You’re going to rot what is left of your brains with this garbage.”

“What else is there to do!” Katniss snaps at him. “Provide us with an alternative Haymitch, and we’ll gladly do it.”

“But please,” Annie cuts in before Haymitch can say anything. “Don’t suggest anything related to alcohol.”

“Or Aurelius,” Katniss adds. “One can only spend so much time talking to that psychiatrist.”

“Yes,” says Haymitch seriously. “It must be so annoying sitting around whining while he does all this work to solve your problems. It must be such a pain that he’s so helpful.”

“It really is!” Annie agrees, completely missing Haymitch’s sarcasm. Effie shushes everyone as the theme song ends and Gwen fills the screen. Katniss lets out a scoff on the bed.

“Baking!” he suggests desperately, turning to me.

“Nope,” I respond, not looking away from the screen. “Have to walk by the front windows.”

“Painting.”

“Did that already today.”

“We could have a picnic under that damn tree.”

“Oh no,” says Effie, turning her attention momentarily from the television. “The grass is very unhygienic. I could never eat off it ground. It will ruin my digestion.”

“We could throw silverware at reporters and gawkers. Then go have a picnic under the tree and eat everything with our hands. I don’t care! Just turn off that goddamn television! We’ve been sitting her for four days now with the news and the reading, and there isn’t enough liquor in the world to get me through this much time with you people!”

“We love you too Haymitch,” I snap back sarcastically. He shudders.

“It’s alright Haymitch. I’ve seen this all the time Finn when it’s raining and he can’t go outside. Is there anything in particular _you_ have in mind for us to do?” I glance back at Annie. She’s become such a mother the past few years.

“Yes!”

“Then please share it with us,” says Annie.

“I want to go home!” Ringing silence follows this pronouncement. “We came here because it was supposed to be helpful. It was supposed to be a place where Katniss could recover and relax. Now she’s refusing to leave this room because of gawkers and reporters. It’s time to go!” I nod slowly in agreement, watching Gwen slap her mother across the face and accuse her of killing the mayor.

“It’s time to go home,” I say firmly.

“Well then good luck pushing past the mob outside,” Katniss responds dryly. “May the odds be ever in your favor.” Her impression of a Capitol accent is flawless.

“Can you call Plutarch?” I ask Haymitch, looking away from the screen for the first time since he walked in. “Maybe if I agreed to an interview this would all die down a little.”

“Are you crazy?” Katniss and Annie shriek at the same time.

“They’ll eat you alive!” Katniss hisses, leaning forward staring at me intently, eyes narrowed.

“They’re desperate for news. They want details, and they’re behaving irrationally. It’s probably made worse by the fact that neither of us has been on camera in five years. Maybe if I give them a little something, they won’t be so desperate and they’ll stop trying to break down the door.”

“Peeta,” my wife begins patiently, “those people with their noses pressed against the window, do you know what they want?”

“Bloodshed,” Annie answers with a shudder.

“Exactly. They want the Hunger Games. They want a victor, because to them it was a _game_. It was fun!” She spits out the last word in disgust. “Don’t give them the Games back.”

“It’s not the Games. I won’t talk about the Games. I want to get on screen and give them the future. I want to talk to them about rebuilding a life after the rebellion and how much better off we are without the Games. I want to denounce the Games for having put this fear in you, and I want them to feel ashamed for being part of it.”

“That will go over well with the Capitol audience,” Haymitch says sarcastically.

“It might actually,” Effie chimes in, no sarcasm in her voice, “Most of my friends feel physically ill whenever they rerun clips from the Games on the news. A few people have gone on television saying watching it now, they can’t get over how human the tributes seem. The Quarter Quell wound up really highlighting for a lot of citizens in the Capitol that the people we watched murder each other for years were really people… _children_. The ones out there who have their noses pressed against the window all the time, those are just nut cases.” I look at Haymitch.

“Please call Plutarch.”

***

“I’m not going down there.” Katniss declares firmly. I’m pulling on the jacket Effie picked out form. I trail my fingers over the stitching. It’s a left over piece that Porshia made for me, before the Quell. I bit my lower lip, fighting to keep my voice from quivering as I think about her hands guiding the thread, creating something from nothing. There’s an aching feeling in my chest.

“You don’t have to,” I tell my pregnant wife, keeping my voice from shaking. “I told Plutarch you aren’t getting any where near a camera under any circumstance.” I run my hands over the fabric, turning away from her, under the pretense of tying my shoes. I don’t want her to see that my eyes are welling up. “He might come up though, just to say hi.”

“I’ll say hello to Plutarch, but not Caesar. No press or media of any kind.”

“Of course not,” I agree. I feel her hand on my back. She’s leaning forward in bed, watching me as I sit on the edge facing away from her.

“What is it?”

“Porshia made this jacket,” I whisper. I don’t have to go on. She understands. She still keeps all of Cinna’s creations in her closet, and whenever she puts one on she always takes a moment, to cry a little and touch the thread that holds the clothing together. Slowly she reaches out, taking my hand and guides it along the stitching going up the other arm. She presses my fingers over were Porshia’s hands once worked.

“She deserved better,” Katniss whispers into my hair, pressing a kiss to my head. I nod. “Stand up, let me see.” I oblige and she smiles. “Very handsome. It suits you.” I shake my head. “It wasn’t your fault you know,” Katniss tells me firmly. “What happened to her and your prep team…it was Snow. It wasn’t your fault.”

“I know,” I tell her dully.

“Do you though?” I make eye contact with her. Her face is determined. She places a hand on my cheek.

“I told you, I know.”

“I’ve never been easily swayed by words Peeta. If you really believed that you’d be behaving differently.”

“You’re too perceptive.”

“Peeta,” She starts, but a sharp knock at the door causes us both to fall silent. She gets shakily to her feet as the door opens. Aurelius is standing on the other side, looking worn down.

“It’s a mad house out there,” he declares, falling dejectedly into a chair, “And security finished questioning every staff member, no one has breathed a word to anyone. However they found out, it was not from an employee of this facility.” Katniss is shaking her head.

“Then it had to be Gale or my mother,” she states flatly, showing no emotion.

“Don’t think like that.” I tell her sharply. “Neither one of them would intentionally do anything to hurt you, and I don’t believe they’re stupid enough to breath a word about your pregnancy to anyone they wouldn’t trust. They wouldn’t want to hurt us.”

“There is no other explanation,” she growls crossing her arms. “It wasn’t the staff. It wasn’t Effie or Haymitch, and it wasn’t you or me. No one else knew. It had to be one of them.” Aurelius begins to wave his hands exasperatedly.

“It does no good to argue about this now. I’m sorry I even brought it up.” He looks me up and down. “How are you feeling? First time on camera since the rebellion and all.”

“He’s upset because Porshia made the jacket,” Katniss quickly tells the psychiatrist.

“We can get you another one if you like Peeta.” They both sound worried.

“No.” I say firmly. “I’m fine. This is fine. It’s all going to be fine.”

“You might want to come up with another word to describe the situation,” Haymitch informs me, walking calmly into the room. “They’re ready for you.” The interview will be taking place in another unoccupied room, but this one Plutarch’s teams has been working on all day to turn into a set for a the show. Haymitch claps my shoulder and straightens my tie. He cups my face between both his hands and looks me with a sigh. “They want to eat you for dinner boy. So…stay alive!”

I feel a dead weight drop into my stomach, a feeling I normally associate with being thrown into an arena. Leaving Katniss sitting on the edge of the bed, I turn and wave, hopefully looking carefree, as the door closes. Aurelius is insisting on watching the program with her, in case it triggers her. We walk down a flight of stairs to the temporary set. Walking in I notice that everything has been done softly, not Caesar’s usual red set, but deep blue, like all the furniture here. This soothes me a little and makes me feel less like a tribute. Caesar is standing by the door being powered up.

“Peeta!” he booms jovially. I’m not sure we’ve ever spoken off camera before. “Well don’t you just look handsome, stunning as ever. You grew up well.” He sounds so cheerful. At his words I remember how I was just a child all those time he helped prep me and parade me around for slaughter. I might vomit. Not trusting myself to open my mouth I smile back, as Effie enters and tugs me with her old insistence back to my make up artists. I sigh in relief, recognizing Katniss’ old prep team.

“Peeta!” Octavia squeals. “Why when we heard!! We’re just overjoyed! Congratulations!”

“Yes,” Venia continues, taking over for Effie and guiding me into a chair. “It’s the best news to hit the Capitol since Katniss’ acquittal.”

“Are you alright?” Flavius inquires. “You look ill.” He tears his eyes away from me to look at Effie. “He looks ill.”

“Nerves,” she responds. “He’s worried he’s out of practice.”

“Relax Peeta darling,” Venia says pulling out some horrifying looking powder.   
“You’re a natural at this. The camera loves you. Plus you and Caesar have always gotten along so well.”

“We’re live in ten minutes!” A voice booms out to the room at large. This causes Katniss’ normally chatty prep team to fall completely silent. They begin flitting about me like birds, adding all kinds of powders and make up, plucking stay hairs from my eyebrows. The only words come when Flavius laments the fact that I cut myself shaving a few days ago.

“Couldn’t you be more careful?” he demands using an odd kind of fleshy band-aid that my skin seems to absorb, making it look like a flawless piece of my skin. I have no time to respond though before the three of them and Effie are steering me out of the chair and towards the set. Caesar is already sitting in his chair, as the music begins to play. As it fades away he begins the introductions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for the week without an update. I had a meeting first thing Monday morning last week, which is when I've typically been updating. Then I kept meaning to update later in the week, but things kept coming up. I'm back now though, and I'm off work and school this Thursday and Friday, so I'll be using that free time to catch up on some writing.   
> Let me know what you think! I mean you all have a lot to process. How will the interview go? Who told? Also if you're interested in reading more of my writing, I'll plug the one shot I did a few weeks ago again. It's called Black Beans, and I think it's pretty good. Leave a comment!


	27. Chapter 27: Another Girl on Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: Discussion of suicide and self harm.

“Ladies and Gentlemen. I am coming to you live, from the inside of the mental health facility run by Dr. Aurelius. I’ve been invited here tonight to interview a very special guest. We all know and love him. Victor of the 74th Hunger Games, key member of the rebel party, half of the Star Crossed Lovers from District 12, devoted husband to the Mockingjay, may I present to all of you, Peeta Mellark!” My feet carry me out in front of the camera automatically, as the Capitol employees of the show break out into wild applause. I shake Caesar’s hand, and he stands to great me, before we both sit down. His calm relaxed presence seems eerily familiar. As the set falls quiet again he begins.

“Peeta! I must say it is good to be able to talk to you again. I was starting to think it was never going to happen.”

“I know Caesar, it was starting to look that way. In fact I’m sure if we listen closely we’ll be able to hear the sound of ever viewers jaw dropping in shock.” He chuckles appreciatively.

“I mean can you blame them really? We’ve advertised interviews with you and Katniss before only to have last minute cancelations. Yet here you are now finally in the flesh!”

“In the flesh,” I agree.

“It is you isn’t it? I mean I’m just having problems believing it.”

“No it’s me. You can smell me to make sure if you like. Five years later and I just can’t seem to figure out all the settings in the shower. I still smell like roses.” Caesar throws his head back laughing hysterically.

“Oh our early days Peeta,” his chortling stops as he suddenly becomes slightly more serious, as though something has just occurred to him. “I believe I managed to get some very substantial confessions out of you back then.” I don’t have the heart to tell him that he never got anything out of me. My confessions were always strategic and were meant to protect the most important person in my life, just like this interview. Every interview I have ever done with this man, will ever do with this man, will be about protecting her, and this is no exception.

“What can I say Caesar, you’re comforting presence just made me feel like I could open up.”

“You flatter me!” he says, the smile returning. “But honestly Peeta, during the interview before the Quarter Quell you confessed to me that you and Katniss were expecting. Then the miscarriage…” he trails off seemingly too overcome by emotion. I talked this moment over with Katniss, about whether or not we should continue the lie or tell the truth. She seemed completely indifferent, insisting that what the media thought of our relationship should have no influence over our actual relationship. They could think what they wanted, but I’m done. I cannot blend what is real and not real anymore. My brain already has enough trouble distinguishing them.

“Honestly Caesar, there was no baby.” He jumps at these words, looking at me shocked. “I made it up, because I thought…I thought…” he takes over for me, like I knew he would.

“You thought it would help keep her alive.”

“That was all I wanted. For her to survive the Quarter Quell.”

“So the Mockingjay never miscarried?”

“District 13 spread that rumor so they could send her into the field without the public raising safety concerns. She was never pregnant in the arena.”

“I must say I am both, shocked and relieved…” Caesar says, his hands covering his heart. “I mean I won’t lie to you, there have been nights were I’ve stayed awake thinking about all she went through in the arena and how barbaric it all was to force an expecting mother into that environment.”

“Oh it was barbaric whether she was pregnant or not Caesar, make no mistake.” He falters dropping his hands from his heart, and begins waving them, trying to express his agreement.

“Of course, making her fight to the death, against the man she loved, her husband, cruel. Especially after you had won, you were Victors, you were meant to be safe.”

“That wasn’t what I was referring to Caesar. The Games as a whole were cruel and barbaric. It wasn’t just about her and I and being forced to face the prospect of killing one another, or the fact that all the viewers believed Katniss was pregnant. What made the Hunger Games barbaric was forcing a group of people, of children, to fight to the death for the crimes of ancestors they never meet and a failed rebellion that occurred before their grandparents were even born. It was about power, and asserting it, and there is three quarters of a century’s worth of dead children as evidence of that power. All 75 years of the games were cruel, not just the last quarter quell.”

“I’m not sure even I can disagree with you. I must confess, looking back on it now, all those children, talking to them, watching them die, being a part of it. Their faces and voices and stories will haunt me.” He sounds ominous now. “I know that many people who had roles similar to myself, the stylists, the prep teams, feel the same. It’s all…it’s been a difficult five years, slowly coming to this conclusion and realizing how…how wrong it used to be.”

“You know, Katniss and I tell each other all the time, when we get caught up in what used to be or what could have happened, that we should be grateful for what we have now, which is an opportunity to grow and move on. We tell each other you don’t heal by living in the past. You heal by going forward and making things better than they used to be and hopefully better than they could have been.” Caesar seems to be regaining his professional tone.

“And I imagine that it what you’re doing now. Moving on and making things better by expanding your family.” I smile. It feels a little forced.

“We’ve lost enough, it feels good to think that we’re gaining something now.”

“So if this is such a happy time for you and Katniss, what exactly are we doing here, in Dr. Aurelius’ top notch mental health facility that specializes in treating victors and war heroes?”

“Honestly Caesar, we’re here because Katniss is a Victor and a war hero. She fought out of necessity in two arenas and a rebellion, when _one_ arena damaged every Victor’s mental health. It hasn’t exactly helped her feel like the world is a secure and safe place to raise a child. She has been struggling to come to terms with her pregnancy.”

“There have been reports of self harm and suicide attempts.” I pause before answering. This is the delicate part.

“I can state that there have been no suicide attempts on her part, and that any harm she has caused herself was earlier on in the pregnancy. None of it was extreme enough to permanently affect her health or the baby’s. She’s doing much better now.”

“I was hoping we might get a chance to see her. I’m sure she’s radiant pregnant.”

“She’s never been more beautiful Caesar, but I’m afraid you’re just going to have to take my word for it. The doctors don’t want her under too much pressure, and she gets very nervous during interviews and when cameras are on.” The man smiles.

“I’m glad to hear she’s being taken such good care of. She is of course, very precious to the people of Panem. It’s thanks to her that we have this chance to move forward as you say, and make the future better than the past.”

“She’s very precious to me too Caesar, and I’m lucky to have her.”

“So,” he says, tone becoming more light hearted. “How’s the baby, hmmm, any details you can share?”

“Well, I never knew babies needed so many devices and contraptions and books. It seems a little ridiculous, considering that everything Effie, our old escort, has bought for us is about fifty times larger than the baby itself.”

“Please, when my sister had her first child the things…my goodness we weren’t even able to physically fit them into her house! Stuffed animals larger than the front door.” I laugh at the image automatically, although I’m a little disturbed to suddenly realize that Caesar has a family.

“Boy or girl?” Caesar asks, head in his hand, elbow resting on his armchair, looking a little dreamy.

“Girl.”

“Another girl on fire! I love it! If she looks anything like her mother you’ll have your work cut out for you, keeping all those District 12 boys away from her.”

“If she has her mother’s aim I don’t think it’ll be a problem.” Everyone in the studio lets out a howl of laughter.

“Do you have a name picked out yet?”

“We do. Katniss choose it, but I promised her I’d keep it under lock and key. She doesn’t want it to become over used.”

“I doubt she’ll be able to stop that, not once the birth announcement goes out.”

“At least for now then. It’s our secret.”

“Well,” Caesar says a little breathy. “I guess I’ll have to respect your privacy given that we’re almost out of time, but before we go, I have to ask. What baby gifts do you think Katniss would like best? I want to make sure to send our expecting Mockingjay her greatest desire!” I smile.

“She wants her space right now. More than anything else, she wants peace and quiet to heal in and finish her pregnancy and get ready for the birth of our daughter. She wants privacy.”

“That sounds like a gift that can’t be just from me,” Caesar says pouting.

“No, it’s a gift that all of Panem would have to give her. Although I’m sure if you helped with that and sent one of those stuffed animals that’s larger than a door, she’d be forever grateful Caesar.”

“Then privacy and a giant stuffed animal our Mockingjay shall have! Anything to help her move forward, we the people of Panem owe her that and so much more!” He stands, and I follow suit. “A pleasure as always Peeta! Don’t be a stranger, we’d be happy to have you and Katniss on anytime!” I smile and thank him as graciously as I can as the theme music starts up again. We stay shaking hands till finally someone yells that we’re clear and the mercifully music cuts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That wasn't terrible no? He's always been so good on camera. Thoughts? Do you think it will work? Who knows...besides me. I originally had this chapter and the previous chapter combined, but it was too much to edit, so I had to break it up. I've written a few chapters ahead, and recently I've been stuck. Yesterday though I powered through, so this story will keep going for a while! Let me know what you think!


	28. Chapter 28: A Firecracker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No Trigger Warnings for this chapter.

As I’m walking back to our room with Katniss’ prep team, Plutarch, Effie and Haymitch in tow, I run through the interview desperately in my mind. Was it the wrong move to confess that the first pregnancy was a lie? What else would we have to confess eventually was a lie? How would Katniss react if it came out she wasn’t really in love with me during our first Games? By the time our second games rolled around she had feelings for me, strong ones, which scared her so much she couldn’t acknowledge them. Those acts of love and devotion in that arena were not even slightly forced. I’m pulled from these thoughts though as the preps suddenly begin bombarding me with baby questions.

“So what is the name?” asked Octavia, eyes wide with wonder.

“Have you felt her kick yet?” Venia asks.

“Is Katniss getting stretch marks? If she is, we’ll have to schedule her for another body polish. Too difficult to hide those things.” I’m grateful we’ve finally reached the door. I turn.

“Just give us a minute to let her know you’re here and make sure everything is okay,” I explain as Haymitch opens the door and walks in without knocking. Following behind him, I see Katniss sitting up in bed, feet swung over the side, toes just grazing the ground. Aurelius is on the chair next to the bed, dozing. The door swings shut as she smiles. Her 27 weeks pregnant belly seems to dominate her body. I hadn’t noticed till now.

“You’re really in the third trimester now aren’t you?” She looks down at her bump and tentatively runs a hand over the top of it. I rarely see her touch it and the sight of it nearly takes my breath away. Next to me I hear Haymitch let out a contented sigh. Glancing at him, I see a small smile playing across his mouth, which vanishes instantly when Katniss looks up.

“Yeah, I guess I am.” She gets huffily to her feet, wearing maternity leggings and a large light blue knit sweater, both bought by Effie. “You were amazing,” she says walking towards me and putting her arms around me. “Very charming.” She plants a soft kiss on my lips, and I feel Willow press against her stomach and into my body. Katniss jumps a little, breaking us apart. “I’m never going to get used to that.”

“What is it?” asks Haymitch.

“She’s kicking,” Katniss responds. The smile returns to Haymitch’s lips for a brief second before sliding away. She pauses. “Would you like to feel?” I stare at her open mouthed. Not once has she allowed anyone other than a doctor or myself to touch her stomach. I expect Haymitch to refuse, but his expression is shocked with a hint of longing. He nods slowly, and Katniss, unceremoniously, grabs his hand and places it where our daughter was kicking last. Haymitch pauses waiting, then I hear a faint gasp. He places his second hand on the bump. The small smile returns to his lips and doesn’t slide off.

“You got a firecracker in there,” he says. “A little one who doesn’t…who won’t remember the games…who won’t be like us.” Though none of us say it, I’m sure we’re all thinking about how if Katniss and I had had a baby in the old Panem we’d have been guaranteeing them a spot in the Games. Haymitch is staring at Katniss is awe. “None of the babies or the children have to be like us…. Thank you.” The last two words come out as a whisper. I know he’s just not thanking her for letting him feel the baby kick.

“It’s not a big deal Haymitch,” Katniss responds, trying to keep the emotion out of her voice. “We’re about to let my old prep team in and they’re going to be all over this thing, feeling it, cooing at it. They’ve never had any reservations about my body and touching me. Might as well get used to other people touching it beside just Peeta and doctors.”

“You’re such a bad liar,” I say. She scowls at me, but I’m not fooled. She knows exactly what Haymitch was thanking her for. She waddles past both Haymitch and I, throwing the door open, and the chirping of her prep team drowns out any further hope of communication.

“Look at you!!”

“Your cheeks are so rosy and gorgeous!”

“And that belly! It’s the perfect shape! So round and cute!”

“Isn’t she just darling,” Effie confirms for them, a sense of pride in her voice, as if she is personally responsible for Katniss’ appearance. Plutarch steps in, looking her up and down. Katniss stares back, face unreadable, over the heads of her bobbing prep team. Plutarch’s face breaks into a smile.

“Would you believe it if I said you looked a damn site better than the last time I saw you?” He steps forwards and embraces her briefly. I can see how tense Katniss body is from afar. She doesn’t wrap her arm around him in return. “Congratulations,” he says, letting go of her and holding her out at arms’ length. Her own hands restring on her stomach. He’s drinking in the site of her pregnant. She gives him a small smile and he lets go of her.

“Thank you,” she whispers back coolly.

“I’ll be honest,” Plutarch chortles, “when I heard the news I was shocked! Thinking about you in District 13, I couldn’t imagine you as a mother.”

“You clearly never saw her with Prim then,” Octavia says, throwing the name out so casually, I even feel like I’ve just been stabbed in the gut. Haymitch clears his throat loudly, covering the sound of Katniss choking a little. I reach out and squeeze her hand. She squeezes back. Effie mercifully changes the subject.

“Wasn’t Peeta marvelous in the interview? You know Haymitch and I didn’t teach him a thing. He was a natural from the moment he walked off the train.”

“Yes,” Plutarch agreed. “Very likable and well spoken. He’s brilliant. It’s a shame we couldn’t use you more during the rebellion. You just have a way with words that would have been helpful filming the propos.”

“Yes,” Haymitch responds sarcastically. “Such a shame he was occupied with therapy sessions and doctor’s appointments and recovering from having obscene amounts of tracker jacker venom pumped into him.”

“We managed,” Plutarch says simpering a little, not noticing the sarcasm. “Although just barely. Katniss did seem to be so disturbed by the whole affair.”

“Very unreasonable of me,” Katniss agrees also sarcastically, “Since having someone you’re willing to die for tortured to a point of thinking you’re a mutt is an everyday occurrence for most people” Plutarch jumps a little at her words.

“So crass this one,” he chuckles, “I’ve missed it. I was wondering though Katniss, if maybe you’d consent to just a few photos. You have to understand you look so adorable and motherly, the people of Panem are so curious about what you must look like. You’re a hard person to picture pregnant, and if you’ll allow me to say the reality is far better than anything I imagined.”

“No,” Katniss responds flatly. “We do not sell my daughter. Panem doesn’t get any part of her.”

“But Katniss…” he pleads.

“No,” she repeats. “It’s not up for discussion. The only cameras photographing her at any stage of her life will be personal ones.”

“What are you going to do physically restrain every journalist from entering 12?”

“No. I’ll just shoot them,” she growls.

“It might not be necessary,” Effie chimes in. “Peeta made a very good point about how we all owe these two a lot. Granting them privacy when it comes to their daughter is not unreasonable in the slightest.”

“You have more faith in people than I do Effie,” Plutarch states frankly.

“It’s because I got out of entertainment.”

“Well speaking of my job, I really must be getting back to it. You know the airwaves will be going crazy with replays of Peeta’s interview, not to mention endless speculation on the name you’ve selected. Someone will have to go do some managing.” He tipped his head towards Katniss one last time, “Congratulations again! To both of you,” and with a grin and a wink at me Plutarch walks out the door. I only take a moment to think about it before I follow him.

“Plutarch!” I call, as the door swings shut behind me. He turns, smile still in place. “I wanted a word.”

“Anything for you, my little Star Crossed Lover.” I walk down the hall towards him till we’re level.

            “The leak? The story about Katniss being pregnant, where did it start?” He bites his lip.

            “Peeta, that seems like sensitive information. Is tracking this person down really going to do any of us any good. It happened. People know, and we’re trying to contain the situation. Questioning who knocked over the glass of water isn’t going to put the liquid back inside.”

            “If it was a medical professional they broke patient confidentiality and should be fired, and if it was a friend…” I rub my temples just thinking about it. “I need to know Plutarch. Whoever it was endangered the well being of Katniss, and whatever endangers her endangers our daughter.”

            “Now don’t make this out to be something sinister. It could be this person thinks of the Mockingjay’s baby as Panem’s baby.”

            “But she’s not Panem’s baby! She’s Katniss’ and I’s baby. There will be no confusion about that. I want to know who is responsible for putting my family through this.” Plutarch takes a deep breath glancing up and down the hallway.

            “I don’t want you to over react.”

            “Who?” He takes a deep breath.

            “The reports began circulating around news outlets in District 2.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did anyone tear up a little during the scene with Haymitch? I did. I reread that a million times after I wrote it. I'm saying that because I hope you'll all be too distracted by the cuteness to kill me for the cliff hanger. Told you we weren't done with Gale yet!
> 
> Also thank you to everyone who has been commenting! This story has officially received four hundred comments! So thanks so much for your support and feedback! You help me keep writing!


	29. Chapter 29: What She Needs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings: Mentions of Panic Attacks and Sex.

            Hours later I’m laying in bed wide-awake, watching the moonlight play across the ceiling. The preps, Effie and Haymitch departed hours ago after Katniss failed to hide a yawn effectively. The preps left the building completely, but Effie has been staying a room down the hall. I haven’t seen Annie since the interview, but I’m not surprised. Effie and Katniss were talking earlier about how Annie was having a bad day. She’s resting. Katniss meanwhile is lying next to me, sleeping undisturbed. I glance at her. She’s on her side, hair splayed out on the pillow besides her, fingers gently curled before her. Thinking about how much Gale’s visit hurt her makes me want to scream. The idea that even after witnessing what she was going through, he could still go to the press knowing what it would do to her… I grind my teeth and let out a frustrated sigh.

            Katniss shifts in her sleep, moving closer to me, and wrapping an arm around my waist. I roll onto my own side, so we’re lying face to face. I wrap my fingers in her hair. Her eyes slowly open. Reaching out, she entwines her fingers in my curls. A smile plays across her lips.

            “Peeta,” she whispers, sleepy closing her eyes.

            “Hmmm,” I respond just as quietly.

            “Remember, we’re supposed to be madly in love, so it’s okay to kiss me anytime you want.”

            “That’s my pick up line,” I tell her sleepily. “It’s how I get all the girls.”

            “Obligating all of them pretend to be in love you during a fight to the death, till they fall in love you for real?”

            “Yeah, that’s my move.” She laughs quietly. I can just make out her smile in the moonlight. I can hardly believe how much I’ve missed seeing it. Without thinking about it, my hand extends, and I lightly stroke her jaw with the backs of my fingers.

            “Do you know how much I love you?” I ask her softly.

            “How much?”

“Enough to eat night lock for you. Enough to go back in an arena with you. Enough to withhold information even as they pump me full of tracker jacker venom, Enough to let you step on my heart a million times, and enough to let you come back to me even after all of it.” I see her eyebrows crease in the white light.

“What’s wrong?”

“How much do you love me?”

“You know I’ve always preferred actions to words,” she whispers. “What happened?”

“If I couldn’t protect you from everything would you still love me?”

“Of course I would Peeta,” she tells me without missing a beat. “And of course you can’t protect me from everything. Do you know what we are?”

“What?”

“A team. That’s what married people do. We each protect the other. You can’t protect me from everything without my help.”

“By that logic we’ve been married since we were sixteen.”

“No, we’ve just had that part of marriage down since the age of sixteen. What happened?”

“Nothing.”

“Peeta.”

“Can you show me how much you love me?” She leans forward, catching my lips with her own, and my lower one between hers. Her fingers trail up my waist, my back, my arms. Her baby bump, pressing lightly against my body. My grip on her hair tightens. She breaks our lips apart.

“What’s the matter?”

“Nothing,” I snap.

“Don’t lie to me Peeta. Actions have always meant more to me, you know that. You’re kissing like you’re upset right now.”

“I have an upset kiss?”

“You have all kinds of kisses Peeta. You have tender kisses, I love you kisses, I want to fuck you kisses, I want to make love to you kisses, it’s going to be okay kisses, quick there’s a camera on us kisses. I love all of them…although I must admit the camera kisses aren’t my favorite. Right now it’s an I’m upset kiss. What happened?” I hesitate.

“I asked Plutarch were the reports of your pregnancy started.” She sits up quickly in bed. I let her hair fall from my grasp. She’s holding herself up on her hands, body still twisted to face me.

“What did he say?”

“What if this was caused by someone we know…”

“It was my mother wasn’t it?”

“No. At least I doubt it.”

“Peeta…who was it?”

“He didn’t say. He just told me where the first few stories originatly broke.”

“Where?”

“District 2.” Katniss sucks in her breath. “There’s no proof it was him.”

“Who else in District 2 knew?” she demands angrily. “I…can’t believe this…we used to be friends…best friends…I once depended on him to keep me alive and visa versa…and now…”

“He’s not the same person. War changes people.”

“No. He always had this in him. He used to rant and rage against the Capitol, and he used to rail against you for perceived wrongs…like loving me, when you had just as much a right to love me as Gale did...I just didn’t want to admit it.” Her voice starts to shake a little. “Maybe, if I’d caught on sooner…he wouldn’t have gained so much power…he wouldn’t have been able to hurt…her.” I place my hand on the back of her neck and pull her into me.

“Ask the questions Aurelius has you ask to stop a panic attack from coming on,” I whisper, kissing her temples.

“Help me? I remember their structure, but when I’m really upset it can be hard to make them fit.”

“Are you one hundred percent sure that not having Gale around would have kept Prim alive?”

“No. She could have died when the Capitol attacked the district if it wasn’t for him.”

“Well then…is it really fair to yourself to say that Prim is dead because you let Gale into your life?”

“Probably not.”

“What can we do to turn that probably into a maybe?”

“Remind me we never officially found out if the bomb was something he designed.”

“We don’t know that. It’s impossible to prove who designed that bomb. That information died with Coin and Snow. It’s over now. Dwelling on it won’t bring her back, and it won’t help you heal. We heal by going forward.” I touch her baby bump. “This is forward. We heal by continuing to live and bringing new life with us.” Katniss drops her hand to her stomach, and inhales deeply. Her eyes are gently closed, and I breathe in her scent, like pine and wind. She grasps my curls again.

“We heal in twelve,” she whispers. “Not here.”

“Do you still want to go home?”

“More than anything. I miss the woods, real woods. As much as I love that tree there are more willows in the woods by twelve. It’s home. It’s where she’s going to be from and spend her childhood, where she’ll come home to. It’s where I want her to be born. I don’t want any part of the Capitol to have any claim to her.” Listening to Katniss talk about this, I imagine a small girl, with dark brown curls and my wife’s eyes, smiling happily at me as she runs through the meadow or terrifies Haymitch’s geese. I’ve never heard Katniss talk about this, and I’m so moved watching her in bed with me, belly swollen with our baby as she strokes it soothingly, there is nothing in the world that can stop me from giving her what she wants, let alone what she needs.

“Okay,” I whisper. “Let’s go home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter I know, but so sweet! Also maybe another bit of a cliff hanger...we still don't know if it was Gale, but they're going home! Yay! Although some people thought that Katniss going home was a terrible idea and that she wasn't ready. Feel free to express your thoughts in the comment box! 
> 
> I know I usually update on Mondays, but I had the day off and took a bit of a lazy day. Enjoy fall!


	30. Chapter 30: Baby finds it Soothing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings: Panic Attacks

I peek slowly around the corner near the exit. It looks clear. Paylor sent in Peace Keepers a few days after my interview to chase off any lingering gawkers, although a lot left after I asked for privacy while my family recovers. Plutarch was shocked when we spoke on the phone a few days ago. Haymitch and I went down ahead of everyone else to check to make sure there wasn’t anyone left before Katniss and Annie come out. Aurelius ordered a car to take us to the train station. We’ll stop in District Four to drop off Annie before Haymitch, Katniss and I continue on to twelve. Effie is already making plans to come out in a few weeks help set up the nursery and be present for the birth.

Haymitch pushes me in the back and I stumble a little, tripping into the entryway, glancing at the windows, braced, expecting to see faces of mad viewers pressed against the glass. All I see instead is an outline of the rest of the Capitol far off in the distance. I sigh in relief. Haymitch scoffs behind me.

“It’s like you’re expecting a pod to go off.” I ignore him and make my way over to the front door, looking left and right as I step out into the sunlight. There are no cameras. While most of the reporters have begged off I do know for a fact there are still one or two being held back at the property lines by security and Peace Keepers. Haymitch pushes past me, taking a long drag from his flask as he goes.

“I am so ready to get out of this hell hole,” he growls, eyes narrowed as he looks out towards the skyline. The training center is still visible, looming over the rest of the city. Once outside the door you can just make it out. They converted it a few years ago into a memorial museum for all dead Victors and tributes. It still makes me shudder to look at it though. “Where is that car?” Haymitch mutters, just as I see the facility’s security guards open the gate. A few flashes go off as a couple reporters snap photos of the car with dark tinted windows driving onto the property. The gates close though, and none of them make it through. I turn back towards the door as I hear it open. Katniss steps out, wearing dark sunglasses with her hair braided in the usual fashion. She waddles towards Haymitch and I. Now that she’s twenty nine weeks pregnant, the stomach sticks out so far ahead of her when she walks it looks like it’s guiding her forward. She’s so beautiful it makes me want to cry.

“You’re walking like a duck,” Haymitch informs her, taking another gulp.

“And you’re drinking like a fish,” she snaps back. “Is that the car?” she asks jerking her head towards the car as one hand supports the small of her back and the other rests on her stomach.

“Yeah,” I say, glancing back towards the door. “Where’s Annie?”

“She’s coming. Aurelius is just giving her refills on her medication and last minute lectures. They’ll probably be out in minute. He won’t let me go without one last word.” Right as she finishes speaking Annie emerges with Aurelius in tow.

“I’ll call when I get home, as always,” she says patiently. “And we’ll talk more on the phone tomorrow.” He nods, distractedly, looking at Katniss worriedly. Annie pats him on the shoulder. “There’s no need to be so concerned. None of us are going home alone.”

“I know,” he says. “I just feel responsible. I care about all of you.” Haymitch lets out a huff behind me. The psychiatrist walks forward. I entwine my fingers with Katniss’ as he hands me a bag. “There are all her medications in there. I wrote down instruction and doses, just so you know how often she needs to take them and at what time of day. The nutritionists also included a recommended meal plan. I made an appointment for you Katniss with Clora for three days from now, and I believe Dr. Rancher recommended Birk look you over Peeta, just to make sure that infection you had is taken care of. He’ll probably be in touch soon.”

“Thank you for everything Dr. Aurelius,” I say. Katniss lets a small smile cross her lips. She’s being polite as he turns to her.

“It won’t be like last time I let you leave the Capitol will it?” he asks her. “You’ll answer the phone?” She nods. “Peeta should keep track of your medication, just in case you slip. If you do back slide a little, it’s okay. I don’t want you to feel ashamed. Just call me, and we’ll work something out.”

“It’s okay Aurelius, it’s going to be…fine,” Katniss says, choking on the last word. He smiles a little.

“Keep calling me everyday and we’ll have you sounding more confident soon,” he tells her. “Just because you’re going home doesn’t mean I’m done treating you. I’m even planning on coming out for the birth, just in case.” My heart drops a little, and for the first time I feel nervous about the baby. She’s going to be here so soon. Aurelius claps me on the shoulder.

“And you call me if you need anything. I want to hear from you more often than before.” I nod. “We’re shipping all your paintings and everything Effie bought. It’ll be in a twelve a few days after you arrive.”

“Thank you,” I say again.

“Haymitch will watch out for you. Right Haymitch?” he asks, leaning around me to get a better view of our old mentor.

“It’s what I do. I keep telling them, stay alive, and I’ve been making sure they stick to it.” Katniss lets out a quick breath of air that could almost be a laugh. Aurelius looks at her and opens his arms. She steps forward and gives him an awkward hug. He pats her shoulder before turning to me and embracing me just as awkwardly. He wraps Annie in his arms just as briefly before opening the car door for us. Katniss slides in first, and after a little maneuvering everyone climbs in after her. The psychiatrist closes the door and waves sadly to us as we drive off.

“I don’t know why you’re not that fond of him Katniss,” Haymitch says, as we round the corner and Aurelius disappears from view. “He’s got good intentions.”

***

The train is whizzing down the tracks. It’s not the same one we used during the games or the victory tour, but our car is private. Aurelius convinced Paylor and Plutarch that being removed from the prying eyes of the public would be best for our health and safety. We boarded the train so ridiculously early before its departure time that no one else was on the platform. Annie is sitting with her feet tucked under her on the couch as she flips through the channels. Every now and then she catches a rerun of my interview, along with speculation about how Katniss and I are doing, what we’re naming the baby, and if the car seen entering and exiting the facility was taking us back to district 12.

“As much as I love him, I’m getting tired of looking at Peeta’s face on camera,” Katniss pipes up after the fourth time Annie watches my interview through to completion.

“I agree,” Haymitch adds. “It makes me miss that horrible soap opera. Whatever happened to that?”

“They stopped playing the reruns,” I tell him, not looking up from my sketchbook. I’m sitting at the table, farther away from the TV than the rest of them. Katniss is sitting on the couch, swollen feet resting on the coffee table, with Annie beside her, while Haymitch is slumped in a seat next to them. “Plutarch was only showing it because there was nothing else going on. The pregnancy break, my interview, and normal political news brought back the regular scheduled programming of gossip and revisiting the past.”

“But what’s going to happen to Gwen?” Annie asks, sounding distressed, “In the last episode they showed Logan was poised to murder her and steal her family jewels?”

“If we’re lucky he killed her and that’s the end of that,” Haymitch says darkly, taking a long chug from his flask. Annie turns to look at me, clearly upset. I recognize the old signs of panic rising in her. Little things can still set her off.

“But…I can’t not know! I have to know,” she half screams.

“It’s okay,” Katniss says touching her shoulder. “None of it is real. Gwen isn’t an actual person.” Annie’s eyes are still wide, as she looks at Katniss, helpless. “If it means that much to you, we can call Plutarch and try to get him to put it back on.” She turns to look at me. I sigh.

“I’ll see if he’s agreeable,” I huff, putting down my charcoal. I had been drawing Katniss with her sunglasses and large belly from this morning. I wanted to remember the image of her rejoining the world, our baby safely growing within her, for the rest of time. There’s a phone on the wall next to one of the rooms. There are only two. We’ll be arriving in four before nightfall, so only Haymitch and Katniss and I need beds to sleep in. I pick up and dial Plutarch’s number. He jovially greets me, once his secretary has patched me through.

“Peeta my boy! I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure of ever hearing from you s much!”

“Hi Plutarch. How are things?”

“Wonderful. We finally have some good television. You know reporters have actually taken to stopping people on the streets of every district to ask them how they feel about Katniss’ pregnancy and what they think the name is going to be. Everyone is just thrilled. How are you? Paylor tells me you’re on your way back to twelve. I was so happy to hear Katniss is well enough to go home.”

“It’s fine. We’re on the train now. I’m actually calling about that soap opera you were playing non stop before the news of the pregnancy broke.”

“Oh yes. Capitol Wealth,” he says knowingly. “Oddly addicting but terrible television. Been on for years. We actually didn’t even get through all the ones we have saved up. Still had another one hundred to play before we’d need them to start making new ones.”

“That’s good. I’m calling because Annie was hoping you could put it back on.” Plutarch lets out a sad sigh.

“I don’t know Peeta. All the managers of every channel are loving this story...it’s probably the greatest hit we’ve had since your wife’s trail.”

“Come on Plutarch. There has to be something you can do. Annie is desperate to know what happens, and Katniss says she’s getting sick of looking at my face.”

“I mean…you’re the one whose good with words is there something I should tell them…” I pause. I’m so frustrated, and sick of dealing with these people.

“You know what just tell them Katniss wants it back on because the baby finds it soothing.” He hesitates, seemingly thinking it over.

“That would probably work, actually. I’ll start by asking Fulvia’s brother. He’s one of the channel mangers, complete push over.”

“Annie will be very grateful.”

“Oh Annie…I was a junior Game Maker when she was a tribute you know. I’ll never forget the image of her running wild through the arena after that poor district partner of hers was beheaded,” he pauses, possibly for effect. “Heart breaking stuff that. Then what happened with Finnick…”?

“That one still haunts Katniss,” I whisper, stepping into our room, the cord, preventing me from straying too far.

“Speaking of Katniss, I’ve been giving more thought to who leaked her pregnancy. It occurs to me that maybe we should launch an investigation. It was confidential information technically, you are right. And if it was anyone who works for the government…” he trails off.

“So you think it was Gale?”

“Soldier Hawthorne was the only person in District Two who was aware of the pregnancy according to Aurelius. If he was the one who leaked it…the whole thing wrecks of unprofessionalism and is very suspect.”

“It might not have been him. He might have told someone, a friend or girlfriend maybe.”

“You’re too kind sometimes Peeta,” Plutarch sighs. “Even if that were the case he would still be responsible for the information leak. Any news he receives about the Mockingjay is only supposed to be in regards to national security, which of course is not something be discussed over dinner and a glass of wine. You were right before Peeta and I was wrong. It’s more than likely that whoever leaked the news of Katniss’ pregnancy broke the law. I intend to talk to Paylor about launching an investigation. It’s going to make great television!” My chest feels hollow. The last sentence out of his mouth makes me feel sick.

“It sound like this isn’t something I can stop you from doing,” I state slowly.

“Well no, but I wanted to give you the heads up. It’ll be launching in the next few days, so keep an eye on the TV set. I’ll call if we need anything.”

“Thank you Plutarch.”

“Of course. You should tell Annie to turn to channel 37. I’ll pull some strings and Capitol Wealth will be on in the next twenty or so minutes.”

“I’ll let her know.”

“Send my regards to all of them. We’ll speak soon I’m sure.” The line goes dead. I feel dirty all over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Sorry for taking a while to update. I had a few midterms last week, and they're still wrapping up. I didn't want to leave you waiting any longer. On the plus side though your patience has paid off, and this far I have not failed any tests or projects! 
> 
> I've also hit some writer's block. I still have a few more chapters written, but things are slowing down. I'm trying to power through, but things might be slowing down soon. Thanks for sticking with me through all of this! We're coming to the end soon!


	31. Chapter 31: Suspected

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings: Discussion and description of panic attacks, depression, self harm, and unwanted pregnancy.

“We’re almost to four,” an attending announces. Annie smiles up at him brightly, hitting a button on the TV. It goes blank as the credits roll for Capitol Wealth. She gets to her feet. I set down my pencil, once again seated at the table. Haymitch is sleeping, drooling, flask clutched lightly in his hand. Annie reaches down and takes Katniss’ hand.

“Don’t get up,” she says. “It’ll take you forever, and it’s been a long day. I’m sure you’re drained.”

“Thank you,” Katniss whispers.

“Of course,” Annie says. “I also want you to know that if you need anything or advice or if you just want to talk to someone about being pregnant, you can call me anytime.” Katniss squeezes her hand harder, tears beginning to form in her eyes.

“That means a lot Annie,” she whispers. “There’s no one else.”

“Of course,” the young widow responds. “I know that this isn’t easy, not having anyone else in your life who’s been through this before, but it’s going to be okay. And I understand. My pregnancy was painful, and I was so afraid that I was going to let Finnick down. But I got through it, and after that I was never alone again. I had my son, and that made all that pain worth it.” Katniss wipes her eyes.

“Hormones.”

“It’s okay. When she comes, you’ll understand. Everything is going to be great. And in the mean time, I am here for you. I’ll even do you one better. I’m not going to answer a single question your mother asks me about you and how you’re doing. If she wants to know she can call and support you herself.” Annie says the last sentence with a definitive nod.

“Thank you Annie. I owe you one.” Annie puts her free hand on Katniss’ cheek.

“You owe me nothing. This is what friends do for each other. Call me okay.”

“I will,” Katniss promises. Annie leans down and kisses her on the forehead as the train rolls to a stop. She steps around the couch, and I stand to embrace her.

“Give our love to Finn,” I say. She nods, and squeezes my shoulder. The door behind us opens, and an attending helps her out of the train. She waves to us as the doors close. A few minutes later, we’re moving down the tracks gathering speed. Katniss’ tears are dry now, as she looks out the window, watching the sun begin to set.

“Do you want to lie down?” She looks up at me.

“Lie down, no. I’d like something else,” she says softly, glancing at Haymitch. “I mean I know we’ve snuck around a few times, but we didn’t exactly have a lot of privacy.” I reach out and help her to her feet.

“Have you missed me?” I whisper in her ear. She nods, leaning forward to suck on my neck a little. With her bump pressed between us, I take her hips and slowly guide them back towards our room. Opening the door, she pulls me over the thresh hold, pushing our lips together. I pull back a little, playing with her a bit. I stretch out my leg and gently kick the door so it swings shut.

***

“Are you doing okay?” she asks sleepily as the train rocks beneath us. Our bodies are pressed together. She threw her panties back on and one of my t-shirts even though it doesn’t cover her pregnant stomach completely. I’m in my boxers. Both of us were too lazy to get up and find regular sleeping clothes.

“What wouldn’t I be doing okay with?”

“We’re almost at thirty weeks,” she whispers. “She’ll be here soon.” I inhale deeply.

“I’m doing okay. I’m happier now that you’re relaxed.”

“And I wonder how I got that way.”

“Always happy to help,” I whisper leaning up and kissing her cheek. She lets out a soft breath of air that almost sounds like a laugh.

“I feel so…heavy,” she sighs. “Like I’m just too comfortable to move.”

“Don’t,” I say, pushing her hair back. “You should rest. We’ll be home in a few hours, and we’ll need to start on the routine Aurelius gave me.”

“He gave you a routine?”

“Said it was good for you to have constancy. It’s supposed to be very similar to what we were doing in the Capitol.” She lets out a low groan.

“I just want this to stop,” Katniss sighs. “I want to be back to where I was the day before I started to…suspect.” I suck in my breath. We haven’t talked about this yet, and I’ve been curious.

“You never told me…what happened.” She doesn’t answer. “I mean…I came home. You’d taken the test…and…it’s just I hadn’t suspected anything. It wasn’t like you’d been sick or hormonal…I left that morning and you were getting ready to go out to the woods. Then the next time I saw you…you were pregnant…and suicidal.”  I feel her soft breath coming in and out.

“I knew,” she whispers. “Before I took the test…I knew.” She pauses for maybe thirty seconds. “I don’t want you to get mad.”

“I just want to know what happened Katniss,” I whisper. “Please.”

“I knew, and I…I didn’t want to acknowledge it. I did some stupid things in the woods, on purpose, took foolish pointless risks. I climbed higher than I had reason to, and I’d jump down if I could. I...it never seemed to do anything.”

“How long did this go on?” I ask, voice rising. I search my memories of her in the days before I found her catatonic. She never seemed upset or like there was anything unusual happening. It’s as though she can read my mind.

“You wouldn’t have noticed anything. I convinced myself I was being paranoid, that I couldn’t be pregnant, because we’d always been so careful. When I was with you, I could look at you, and feel safe. That made it easier to believe the lies I was telling myself. I’d come home, see you, tell myself I was making things up, and that the next day I’d be more careful. But in the woods, when I was alone with my thoughts…I couldn’t fight what my body knew.”

“You hurt yourself in the woods?”

“No. I just behaved recklessly, but…my reflexes must be better than I think they are. No matter how far I jumped, I always landed on my feet.  Till that day…there was a wild pack of dogs…” I suck in my breath. “We were both going for this flock of turkeys. I saw them. I knew they were there, but I wanted a fight…an accident, nothing that would get me killed…just enough to make me….” She can’t finish the sentence. I’m grateful. The tears are already welling up in my eyes.

“I shot at the turkeys and the dogs…spotted me. They came straight for me. I ran and made it to a tree. They had me stuck up there for hours…till finally another flock of wild turkeys walked by. They were more interested in prey that was on the ground, and they went to chase them down. I stayed up there for about another hour or so…then when I was coming down…I was maybe a little less than ten feet above the ground. The branch I stepped on…snapped, and I went backwards.” Her eyes are closed tightly, as she clutches me, fingers digging into my shoulders.

“You fell?” I confirm, voice full of concern. She nods. I don’t remember her seeming injured that day.

“I landed on my back, and…I was…I was clutching my stomach. I had my arms wrapped around it, my head and legs both pulled as tightly towards it as I lay on the ground, like I was protecting it. I fell nearly ten feet and my instinct was to shield my womb.” Tears are falling freely down her face. She lets out a desperate choking sound. “It hit me all at once then, that this was happening, and I needed to be sure. I couldn’t keep denying what…what we’d done. I remembered that weekend…with the rain, and my last excuse faded. I threw up and stumbled back through the meadow to where the fence used to be. I was probably the last customer at the pharmacy that day. It was Sae’s granddaughter behind the counter. The one who isn’t completely there…I don’t think she even recognized me or what she was selling me. I told her to toss the receipt, because I didn’t want you to find it. I ran straight home, drank all the water I could, and I took it.” I swallow hard.

“Then when the results came, and those god damn fireworks were going off on it. It reminded me of the arena exploding and…it made me think of… I couldn’t breath looking at those fireworks and thinking about how they set them off before they…took you. And if that happened again!” Her voice is getting louder, more hurried. “She’d have no one, because I can’t be a mother…I tried to kill her by jumping out of trees and challenging wild dogs. What kind of a mother does that?” I wrap my arms around her.

“I’m right here. It’s okay. I’m not going anywhere, and even if I did, you’d be okay. You’d be a great mother.” She shakes her head.

“I understand my mother’s reaction to losing my father so well now…after the Capitol took you…it was so hard for me to do…anything. I was in a haze. If I lost you…”

“It’s different now. You have someone else who needs you. You’re also older. You were just a kid back then Katniss.” She rolls her eyes, turning away from me to wipe the tears away. “I mean it. You were only seventeen. It was too much most adults to handle, let alone a teenager. You can’t beat yourself up about that. Besides,” I stretch out a hand to rest on her stomach. “You’ll never lose me now. You’ll always have a little bit of me.” She brings her hands to the top of mine. “You feel differently now than you did at the beginning of this pregnancy. Real or not real?”

“Real,” she whispers.

“You feel better about it, more secure. It’s easier for you to believe that everything is going to be okay. Real or not real?”

“Real, but it’s still hard Peeta.”

“You wouldn’t do anything to purposefully cause a miscarriage now. Real or not real?”

“Real,” she whimpers.

“That’s all that matters,” I tell her firmly. “We didn’t plan this. It was a shock to you. Given your history, it’s understandable that you reacted that way.”

“That doesn’t make it okay,” she sobs. I can’t argue with her.

“You didn’t have your mental health Katniss. Please don’t hold that against yourself. Am I responsible for the things that Capitol Peeta says and does when I’m having an attack?”

“No,” she says, “but.” I cut her off.

“No. It’s the same thing. When things like this happen it’s not as though you can help it. You reacted, and at the time you didn’t have the tools you needed to handle the situation. We’re working on giving them to you now, and that’s all that matters. You’re working to get better, and you’ve made so much progress. That matters more than anything that happened before. You can’t keep punishing yourself for this Katniss.”

“You’re always so supportive,” she whispers tears still falling a little.

“And I always will be. I’ll keep telling you all of this till you believe it.”

“You don’t think I believe it now?”

“No. I know you too well.” She doesn’t argue, so I continue. “I do wish though that you’d let me be supportive sooner. How long did you _know_ before you took the test?”

“Two weeks,” she whispers. “I missed my period…I told myself it was stress.”

“I wish you’d have told me something. I could have helped you. I’d have held you when we got the results. I’d have made it less painful.”

“I couldn’t…I couldn’t tell you. I thought about going to the bakery after I left the pharmacy, to get you…to tell you everything, but…you’d always wanted kids, and I pictured how excited you’d be. But…then you’d try to hide it when you saw how terrified I was, and I thought seeing me like that after I’d just given you what should be happy news…picturing your face when that realization hit you…it terrified me.” Her breath begins to quicken. “Just thinking about it…I started having a panic attack.” I make shushing noises, pulling her back into me.

“You know I’ll be there for you, no matter what.”

“I just didn’t want to see that hurt. It’s worse now. You went through it anyway, and I wasn’t there for you.”

“Don’t worry about it.” I’m beginning to feel overwhelmed. I’ve never heard her pile on all the things she done wrong and beat herself up for this long. “I’m okay. We shouldn’t be worrying about me. I’m concerned for you.” I find her wrist and take her pulse. “You’re working yourself up. Keep this up, you’ll have another melt down. Let me get you some water.” She pulls herself to a seated position, as I rise and pour her a glass from a pitcher sitting on the dresser. Coming back to her, I sit on the bed in front of her, as she leans against the head board.”

“Bring yourself back to the present,” I remind her. “You only get anxious or depressed when you are in the future or the past. Right here, right now, nothing bad is happening, everything is fine. We take this one thing at a time, right here in this moment.” She takes a deep breath, handing me back the glass, completely drained. She rubs her hand back and forth across he belly absent-mindedly.

“Maybe we should get some sleep,” she says. I nod, placing the glass on her bedside table and crawling over her to get to my side.

“Great idea,” I say pulling her back into me. “I had you all relaxed and satisfied before. We should try to get that back.” She chuckles, settling into her favorite spot on my chest, where she says she can hear my heartbeat the loudest. Her pregnant belly presses against my side. “Rest now,” I whisper to her, kissing her head. She lets out a low sigh, and slowly we drift off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: I'm doing my best to keep writing and to work through my writer's block. It's been difficult, trying to get a rhythm down for what their life is like while they're home. I'll try to update again soon. Let me know what you think!


	32. Chapter 32: Long Way

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings: Mention and build up of panic attacks

As I come to the next morning, I sense the change in scenery based off the light. The landscape is beginning to look more like home. Sitting up, I notice Katniss, legs thrown over the side of the bed already, her back to me. I reach out and touch the end of her braid. She turns to me, eyes wide a little with panic.

“Hey,” I say groggily, pulling myself towards her, guiding my prosthetic, till I’m sitting next to her on the end of the bed. “What’s up? Are you not feeling better?”

“We’re really doing this?” she asks, looking terrified. “We’re having a baby?” I nod. She looks pale.

“Not this second. Stay here in this moment.” Her eyes stay wide, as she stares off into space. Doubt begins to creep into my mind. “Do you want to just stay on the train and go back?” I ask. “If this is all too much…” At this she rises to her feet, overcome by more panic.

“No!” she half screams. “I won’t go back there! Those are the people that want to take her.” The last sentence comes out as a hiss. I stand up, palms facing her, approaching partially like you would a wild animal. 

“Then we won’t go back. I had to ask…I’m worried you’re going to have a harder time here than we did at the facility.”

“It’s so real now. We’re going to the place where we have to raise her…” she gulps. I refill the glass of water I left on her bedside table the night before, handing it to her. She drinks gratefully.

“We’re not doing all the raising things her right now. We have time. While I set up the nursery with Effie we can both start reading those books about how to take care of babies and child rearing that she bought for us. We’ll figure it out. Be here now.”

“Well what are we doing now?” she demands, eyes still a little wide.

“Something much easier than raising a baby,” I tell her simply. “Having breakfast.” It takes a few more minutes of coaxing, but eventually she calms down enough to get dressed. We walk out to the rest of the car, holding hands, to find that Haymitch is in the same chair we left him in last night, mouth open wide and drooling. One of the attendings threw a blanket over him in the night.

“What are we going to do with him?” asks Katniss as she sits down. I take the seat across from her, glancing at Haymitch, before loading up a plate with food. She does the same, still waiting for my answer.

“Do we have to do something with him?” I ask.

“It’s not like he’s getting any younger, and at the rate he’s going I’m not sure how much more his liver can take.”

“He’s slowed down since the war.”

“Because he has to. If the trains came every week, he’d always be flush with liquor.”

“We should have let Effie force him into rehab while we had the chance.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. He’s never going to stop drinking,” she insists; face unreadable, as she looks at him. For an instant, I think she looks a little sad. I glance back and forth between them. They’ve always had some kind of connection I’ll just never quiet understand. People from the Seam always seemed to have a secret language and set of customs.

“You’re worried about him?”

“I’m worried that he’ll drink too much and stumble into an early grave.” I look her up and down, slowly.

“You know,” I say softly. “You’re thinking a lot about the future, this morning, and putting a pessimistic spin on it. Maybe you should talk to Aurelius about that.” She sets down her silverware, folding her arms, and leaning back, away from her food. I instantly regret saying anything. Nothing should ever disrupt her eating. “I’m sorry,” I back track quickly. “I…last night you nearly worked yourself into a panic attack, and I’m worried. While I’m excited about going home, there are fewer mental health resources here. I only want to make sure you’re doing alright.”

“Just…be happy I’m engaging, _please_ ,” Katniss snaps, emphasizing the last words. I nod, letting the subject drop, and after a few minutes she picks up her silverware again and takes a large bite. She’ll never let food go to waste.

Haymitch eventually rejoins the conscious land. He stumbles over to the table. Katniss watches him carefully as he begins picking at a bowl of fruit I handed him. He’s taking tiny bites, letting out the occasional gagging sound. Every time he glances up at Katniss, she looks pointedly away. She’s almost huffing.

“Hormonal today, are we sweetheart?” Haymitch observes, reaching for his flask. Katniss swats his and causing him to drop it. I’m staring pointedly at him, willing him to make eye contact with me. He and Katniss keep staring each other down for a few more minutes before he leans down to pick up his fallen source of alcohol. As he does so he makes eye contact with me. I firmly shake my head, ever so slightly. It’s barely noticeable. I’ve only done this once before, during the seventy fourth Hunger Games, while standing on my plate. I’m begging him not to go for his flask as hard as I begged Katniss not to go for the bow and arrows. His fingers are already wrapped around the metal flask, but he’s not sitting up. His eyes are still fixed at my face. I make a show of glancing at Katniss, who’s eating now with gusto. Looking back at my old mentor I shake my head one more time. He unscrews the lid and dumps the contents onto the rug letting out aloud groan before sitting back up.

“Empty,” he snaps, slamming it down on the table. “You spilt it. Do you have any idea how long it’s going to take me to get another shipment, sweetheart?”

“Why don’t you just empty the liquor cabinets here? It’s what you always do.”

“Aurelius wouldn’t let them stock this compartment. He was this close,” he holds up to fingers that are practically touching, “to forbidding the attendings at his precious little facility from purchasing liquor on my behalf.”

“Well then you should really be more careful about closing the lid,” Katniss snaps. Plate now clear, she stands up and storms out of the room. I make no objections and hope she’s going to get more sleep. Haymitch turns to me.

“What is all that about?”

“She’s worried you’re going to drink so much your liver will dissolve.”

“That’ll never happen. Alcohol is a preservative,” he quips. I roll my eyes.

“How selfish of her to care about you Haymitch,” I say sarcastically. “She should just let you die in peace right.” He makes no response, but suddenly seems much more interested in his fruit than he was before. I begin to eat my own breakfast. We sit in complete silence for the rest of the meal before an attending finally arrives to tell us we’re coming up on District 12.

            I knock on our bedroom door before I enter. Katniss is back in bed. She has a book open, balanced on her stomach. For perfectly understandable reasons, she distrusts television, and will always elect to read a book unless someone else has strong feelings.

            “We’re coming up on home,” I tell her. She nods, not looking up. “Good book?” I ask. She holds it up, and I see the title, _Anxiety and Pregnancy_. “Helpful?”

            “I’ve been skimming it on and off for a few weeks now. It’s full of all the garbage Aurelius usually says.” I nod. She closes it, and begins to rub a hand over her belly. “That plus breathing exercises and recommendations for soothing music.”

            “I’ve heard it’s good to play that kind of thing during pregnancy for the baby.”

            “That’s ridiculous,” she says flatly. “It’s not like she knows what music sounds like or will have any appreciation for it.”

            “It’s just supposed to be soothing. My mother told me once she used to have her brother play the flute for her while she was pregnant, so my brothers and I could hear the sound.” She stares at me for a long moment. I never talk about my mother. “Probably not the best way to sell you on the idea though,” I continue absent-mindedly. I still can’t make out the emotion she must be feeling, but wordlessly, she reaches forward, taking my hand and guiding it to the left side of her stomach. I feel a swift kick as she presses my fingers into the right spot.

            “She likes the sound of your voice.” I smile.

            “You could sing to her,” I say gently. Her body tenses as it does every time someone has the audacity to ask to hear her make music. “She’d probably like the sound of your voice too,” I whisper, leaning forward and pressing a kiss on her stomach. She reaches out, catching my bangs in her hand and smoothing them back. I look up at her. Pain and awe are etched across her face. I let it go, since I can feel the train beginning to brake beneath us. Sitting up, I hold out two hands to her.

            “Come on,” I encourage her when she doesn’t move. “Let’s go home.”

***

            “It looks the same,” Katniss says, sounding confused. She’s just stepped out of the train onto the platform. I duck beneath the train door to follow her, looking around. It’s springtime, and I see the budding greens right away. I smile, as I step down and hear Haymitch scuffling behind me, trying to follow. “Like nothing’s changed.” There’s relief in her voice. She turns to me, eyes wide mouth parted. I reach for her hand, which she grasps; the other is absent-mindedly resting on her swollen stomach. Haymitch joins us on the platform, half falling half tripping out of the train. He lands on his feet though, and immediately moves past us, possibly not wanting to give us the opportunity to mock him. We set off, an attending following with luggage. I offer to help carry, but am shooed away.

            We make our way slowly through town. The square is empty. I glance automatically towards the bakery. The lights are off, shades drawn. It’s too early to be open, but surely someone is inside right now, baking what will be sold that day. Katniss squeezes my hand, eyes locked on the bakery as well.

            “We can stop in and say hello if you want,” she offers. I shake my head.

            “Let’s start slow. We should get home before we do anything and take some time to get back into things.” Aurelius is a big proponent of not doing too much too soon, and on this front I’ve always sided with him. Katniss shrugs. We keep walking, out of the reconstructed square along the path to Victor’s Village. Haymitch is walking so fast, I’ve completely lost sight of him. As we step under the gates I let out a sigh of relief. There are no reporters in sight. Part of me was worried they’d be camped out on the front porch. Katniss leans on me as we make our way up the steps on the porch. She waddles now more than she walks.

I pull the key out of my pocket, and in an instant the door is swinging open. It’s dark, but as I hit the light switch, it comes back to life. Sae has clearly been in every week to clean. I meant to call her more than I did while we were in the Capitol. Katniss slips past me, and I hear the floorboards creak as I take the bags from the attending. He smiles at me, grasping my hand for an instant.

“It was an honor,” he says softly. “Congratulations.” All I can do is smile back, and then he’s gone. I look down and let out a groan. I close the door again, looking it from the inside before making my way into the living room. Katniss is sitting on the couch, feet propped up on the coffee table. It drives me nuts when she does this. It is not clean, but it’s probably best to let it slide for now. She looks up at me concerned.

“We have Haymitch’s suitcase,” I tell her. She waves her hands nonchalantly.

“Then let him come get it himself,” she snaps. “He’s out of liquor so what else does he have to do.”

“I don’t know…heaven forbid he actually take care of the geese. That’s probably why they want to kill him. They’re staging a revolt so they can access their own food.” Katniss smiles. We’ve come a long way since leaving District 12.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to update...again. It was a very busy week, and I had a few projects due. I figured I'd break the schedule and update this morning to put you out of your misery. Good news also is, I have a new desk now, which I actually like. Hopefully that will motivate me to stop procrastinating, and keep me from procrastinating and putting off writing.   
> I'm trying to work out some kinks in the upcoming story, because it's hard to say where things should go from here. It's all a lot more free form for Katniss and Peeta now, which means it's a lot more free form for me. I haven't been happy with somethings I've written, and have been doing a lot of rewrites. Let me know what you all think of this chapter, because I had to do some edits to it.


	33. Chapter 33: Not Good For the Mind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings: None

We’ve been in District 12 for a week the morning the ringing phone wakes me up. I groan, and I feel Katniss shift in bed beside me. Her movements are slow. She’s probably still groggy from sleep. We aren’t in our room so the phone is farther away. We started sleeping in the guest room after the first night when Katniss was inconsolable.  Sleeping in the same bed where I found her months before suicidal, where she tried to rip her skin off, was too much for her. I placed an order for new bed and sheets and moved everything we need to be comfortable into the spare room while we wait for it to arrive. The telephone though remained rooted to our bedside table. I groan louder as it rings again.

“Do you want me to get it?” Katniss asks, voice hoarse. I groan again. At thirty weeks, she’s moving slowly. She’d never make it in time. I sit up, grabbing my prosthetic and swinging it over the bed in one swift movement. I make it to the phone just in time. As I put the receiver up to my ear I sit on our old bed.

“Hello,” I ask. My voice is rough. I’m practically croaking. There’s a long pause before someone answers.

“Peeta…” It’s a woman. I know this voice. It sounds familiar, but it’s taking my sleepy brain a few minutes to place it.

“Who is this?” I ask, rubbing an eye with the base of my palm. She inhales deeply.

“It’s Katniss’ mother.” My heartbeat quickens.

“Mrs. Everdean,” I repeat. “How are you?” I turn to check the door. Katniss hasn’t made it down the hall yet, but I doubt she’d come in here.

“Mrs. Everdean…that sounds so formal coming from my son in law.” She sounds doubtful, angry even.

“How are you?”

“Alright, I suppose. I’m calling because…well the reports on the television were speculating that you and my daughter left the Capitol. Annie refused to tell me anything. I only wanted to…check…to know where you are.”

“We’re home,” I confirm. I hear a creak and turn to see Katniss pushing the door open. Her stomach is the size of the ball my brothers used to kick around the square before a Peace Keeper impaled it and we couldn’t buy a new one. “All three of us,” I add. “All home.” She takes a deep shaky breath.

“How is she?”

“She’s right here if you’d like to talk to her,” I tell my mother in law, deciding in an instant to use Annie’s tactic. If they aren’t going to talk, I’m not going to make it easy on them.

“No,” Mrs. Everdean says firmly. “I need to go to work. Tell her…tell her I said good morning.” Her tone has changed, suddenly sounding robotic and formal. “Have a good day Peeta.”

“You too.” There’s a click. She’s gone. I slowly replace the receiver into it cradle. Katniss doesn’t move from the door as I stand up.

“Your Mom says good morning.” Katniss rolls her eyes, turning away from me and making her way towards the stairs.  I follow her and we slowly descend to the first floor. I’m so used to her being the fast one that her leisurely waddling has been difficult to get used to. I weave around her once we’re at the bottom, enter the kitchen, grab the breadbasket, uncover it, place it on the kitchen table, and am grabbing jam plates and butter knifes by the time she enters. She sits heavily as I place the plate before her along with the jam jar.

“Don’t you need to go to the bakery?” she asks carefully.

“No,” I say offering no details. I play this game with her sometimes. I know she’s asking for specifics about something, but I don’t give them to her. Instead I answer her question honestly and using as few words as possible. She hates it, which strikes me as ironic because she does it herself. Narrowing her eyes at me, she takes a cheese bun and begins to spread apricot jam on it.

            “Why wouldn’t you need to go to the bakery?” she asks coolly. “Aren’t you the owner?” I shrug.

            “Yates has been managing things while I’m gone, and he’s doing a fine job. I’ve been calling periodically. They think it’s more important for me to stick with you, and I agree.” Her eyes stay narrowed.

            “Baking keeps you sane,” she states plainly. I sigh.

            “I’ll bake here.”

            “Can’t stay cooped up here with me forever.”

            “I’m not leaving you alone. It’s nonnegotiable Katniss.”

            “You left me alone in the Capitol to bake and paint.”

            “That was different. There were attendings and I knew you’d be safe.”

            “Then call Haymitch or Sae. We still have another ten weeks left. You can’t hoover over me all the time. We’ve been over that. It’s not healthy.”

            “Then let’s go out. We could go for a walk around the village or visit Sae at her house for once.” Katniss pauses, seeming to consider this. “It’d be nice I beat for you and Willow to get a little exercise.” I prod her gently with my words. She shrugs.

            “We can go for a walk, and stop by the bakery.” My heart sinks. If I go in there I’ll be tempted to bake and stay and work, which I don’t want to do till things are more settled here. She knows this too.

            “We shouldn’t bother Yates and the others. I’m sure they’re very busy.” Katniss scoffs.

            “It’s your bakery, and you know how much all of your employees adore you. I’m sure they’re excited about us becoming parents.”

            “I don’t want to be distracted right now.”

            “Maybe a little distraction is what you need. It would calm your nerves.”

            “I’m calm. I just don’t think I should leave you in case something happens. Besides I won’t have time to bake because we need to get a nursery ready. That’s going to involve lots of painting.”

            “The nursery,” Katniss repeats slowly, taking a sip of some herbal tea. “We should get on that…”

            “Maybe we go for a walk today, and just flip through some of the catalogs Effie sent,” I say carefully, looking at her hard. She’s avoiding my gaze. “No decisions or ordering anything, just circling the furniture we like.” She bites her lip and nods, before suddenly standing up.

            “Get your shoes on. We’re going for a walk around town.”

***

            For some reason my heart is pounding, as the door to the bakery swings open. The bell on the wall chimes. I originally put it there to help sooth me, but the sound makes my breath hitch today. Everything seems to be moving slowly as I wait for someone to emerge from the back. I don’t know what I’m planning on saying. I haven’t spoken to anyone in person since the day I found Katniss catatonic in bed. They found out about the pregnancy the way the rest of the nation did. My palms are sweating. Will they be mad or hurt that I didn’t confide in them? Footsteps approach the door that leads to the back of the room, and I just make out a figure in the glass window before it swings open. Delly walks distractedly through the door.

            “Hi, sorry, welcome to the Mellark Family Bakery how can I…PEETA! KATNISS! Oh my odds!!” The squeals make my ears ring. She’s dashing out from behind the counter, rushing past me like I don’t exist, and pulling a stunned Katniss into a tight hug. My wife lets all the air out of her lungs in a shocked huff as Delly presses them closely together before quickly holding Katniss out at arms length. “Let me look at you!” Her eyes drink in the sight of the bulging stomach and altered stance to make up for the weight. Delly releases Katniss and presses a hand to her mouth, eyes welling up, overcome with emotion.

            “Delly,” Katniss finally manages to get out. “It’s good to see you.” She sounds flustered. Emotional displays have always made her uncomfortable. “Peeta really missed you.”

            “Yes,” I say quickly, trying to distract my oldest friend. “Have you been filling in while I’m gone?”

            “You look amazing,” Delly chokes out, as though nothing interrupted her before. Tears are beginning to spill out of her eyes. “So round and full of life and just everything!” She sniffles loudly. “This might be the most touching thing I’ve seen since the war.” Katniss eyes are wide, like a trapped deer.

            “Umm…” she says. “Thanks, Delly.”

            “Oh! You need to sit!” she cries as though it just occurred to her. Grabbing Katniss by the elbow she steers her towards some benches set up along the wall in front of the windows. “Did Peeta make you walk all the way here!”

            “I made him walk,” Katniss corrects her. “Being cooped up all day is not good for the mind.”

            “Yes,” Delly agrees, grabbing some napkins off the counter. “Fresh air and open space it’s good for you. That’s why we all left thirteen, too boxy and not enough freedom. Honestly the tight space and being stuck underground is probably half of what drove you two to the brink.”

            “That and the torture and trauma from two arenas and a war,” I say bitterly.

            “Well that might have been part of it too.” She waves her hand, moving to sit next to Katniss as she speaks. “How are you feeling by the way? We’ve all been so worried.” A sad smile plays across Katniss’ face.

            “I’m doing much better than I was when we left.”

            “That’s wonderful!” Delly says proudly. “And you’re home safe and sound. No press or media?” she asks, turning to look at me.

            “Not as far as I can tell,” I answer.

            “Wonderful! You were brilliant by the way Peeta! That interview inspirational!” She’s stroking Katniss’ arm subconsciously as she speaks. A swooping feeling of affection washes over me. It is so lucky we ran into Delly first.

“Are you hungry? We’ve got lots of fresh loaves and cookies and muffins,” Delly continues, standing up, and moving back towards the counter. “I think Ryan has been storing some smoked ham in the back and cheese. I can throw some sandwiches together.”

“We had breakfast at home,” Katniss tells her kindly.

“I’ll wrap up a loaf for you,” Delly continues, again as though no on has spoken.

“Delly,” I say interrupting her ramblings. “I was hoping to talk to Yates.”

“Oh yes,” she says, as though she just remembered. “He’s in the back office.” I smile, patting her on the shoulder, as she begins to ask Katniss about what kind of breads she wants. The kitchen looks the same and the smell helps calm my nerves. The office is located in the back corner. I knock lightly as I stand in the doorway. Yates, who’s a few years older than me, doesn’t look up.

“Who was it Delly? Another resident asking for details about Katniss?”

“It’s not Delly, but it’s good to know I should keep my eye out for nosey neighbors.” Yates looks up, a grin cracking his frown, at the sound of my voice. His dark grey Seam eyes are thrown into shadow by his light brown hair. It’s grown a lot since the last time I saw him.

“Peeta!” He pronounces my name, heavy with relief. “I’m so glad you’re here.” He stands up, moving around the desk. We embrace briefly. He slaps me on the back like my older brothers used to. “We were worried.”

“That’s what Delly said,” I echo, taking the seat across from him at the desk. He sits back down behind it. It looks organized. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” He waves his hand, as if to say it was nothing. “No. You’re my friend Yates and I’ve been depending on you for months. You deserved to know what was going on.”

“So long as you were too busy making your pregnant wife your priority, I’ll let it slide,” he comforts me with a soft smile. “Besides, I had Delly step in to help cover some of your shifts and make scheduling more flexible. It has given me many opportunities to ask her out.”

“And I’m guessing you’ve taken advantage of none of them.” He’s had a crush on Delly for years.

“I’m working on it. A girl like her deserves to be wooed.”

“Work faster. I’m back now.” He shakes his head quickly at me.

“Leave all of this to me,” he insists. “From the sound of those news reports you have enough to worry about.” There’s a long pause. “How is she?”

“Okay. She’s doing a bit better with each passing week. The doctors say she’s healthy and that the baby is healthy. Hopefully being home will help her find more peace.” He nods slowly as I talk.

“And how are you?”

“Fine.” He raises an eyebrow at me. “Fine,” I repeat. “I’m fine.” He sighs.

“We’re friends you know. If you can’t tell me, you can’t tell anyone, so we’ll try again. Say something real this time.” He takes a deep breath. “How are you?” I swallow.

“It’s been hard Yates.” I’m surprised to find a lump in my throat and my eyes are prickling. “I don’t think I’ve ever been more terrified.” He nods.

“And that’s okay. It’ll be better now. You’re home, back with the people who love you. You aren’t alone anymore. We’re all here for both of you.” Hiring Yates and becoming best friends with him might have been one of the best decisions I ever made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright I need everyone to let me know what they think, because I have not been the biggest fan of my own writing lately. It normally comes very easily, but I've been having to force things out. The quality might have suffered in the process. Plus there are just so many elements to deal with now, some interesting things have been coming up. Comments are very much so appreciated!


	34. Chapter 34: Hate that Color

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings: None for this Chapter

“Call if you need anything!” Delly says. Her voice is high, and though I can tell she’s working hard to maintain her usual sunny disposition, her body language screams concern. “I can stop by tomorrow with more food. Did I give you the bread?” Katniss holds up a bag in answer. Delly claps her hands together once. “Wonderful. Just phone if anything comes up. I’m not that far.”

“We will Delly,” I reassure her, leaning in to give her a hug. She squeezes me a little tighter than usual.

“If you need to talk,” she whispers, “I’m here.” I let go without responding.

“Thanks again for all the bread,” I repeat.

“Don’t thank us. It was technically yours to begin with.” Yates is standing behind the counter. “And try to relax. I’ll handle everything on this front. I’ll just stop by tomorrow with a few things for you to sign, and then you can focus on getting ready for the new addition.” I smile. Katniss walks over to the counter, and Yates gives her a fleeting hug. With one last squeeze of Delly’s hand, we’re out the door.

“Too much?” I ask as we make our way back towards home automatically. She shrugs. “I know you wanted to see Sae, but we can stop in tomorrow. I don’t want you to over do it.”

“I’m pregnant. It’s not like I’ll die from the slightest physical exertion.” I hesitate before answering.

“I was more thinking about you emotionally.”

“I know you were,” she snaps. “I just…Delly can be a lot for me to handle sometimes.” Her voice softens.

“That’s fine,” I reassure her quickly. “We should just go home. I’ll make lunch and you can relax, flip through the nursery magazines if you get a chance. Apparently we were sent a lot. All the designers in the Capitol want to be the ones who’s furniture we pick.” Katniss groans.

“It sounds like something Plutarch would turn into a game show.” My heart stops beating momentarily. I stop walking. We’re holding hands, and Katniss follows suit when she feels the gentle tug on her arm. “What is it?”

“I should tell you. I think Plutarch is planning on televising the investigation to find out who leaked the story about you.” Katniss rolls her eyes.

“I guess I should be just be a bit grateful. You know if Snow or Coin were still in charge, they’d have wanted a camera crew actually with my while I delivered.”

“If Snow where still in charge the camera crew would have been there for the conception too,” I add with a shudder. Her grip on my hand tightens. I change the subject. “They’ll drag Gale’s name into it, probably accuse him of being the leak.”

“Makes sense considering he was the leak.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yes I do,” she insists. We start walking again. “He let go of his morals a long time ago, and I hurt him. This hurt him.” She gestures to her body, particularly her pregnant belly. “Trust me. He’s capable of much worse.” Her voice is dark, weighed down with memories of fire and explosions and… Prim.

            “What if he didn’t do it Katniss? This could ruin him.”

            “I don’t care,” she snaps, but she looking off into the distance, towards the edge of town, where the tops of the trees just peak out over the buildings in the square. Wordlessly she turns away from it and begins to bite her nails. I decide to let it go for now.

            “What all do you think we’ll need for the nursery?” I ask calmly. Katniss grabs hold of the change of subject desperately.

            “Place for her to sleep. Effie kept prattling on about changing tables too, and…we have a rocking chair already.”

            “We do,” I confirm. A smile creeps over my lips as I remember the painting from my studio in the Capitol. I’ll have to finish it once it arrives on the next train. “It used to be your mother’s right?”

            “Her mother’s actually. She brought it with her from town when she married my father.” I nod. My own mother used to get a disturbing amount of pleasure from recounting the story and rehashing the scandal with willing customers. Probably because she knew that my father had been in love with Mrs. Everdean, and she was jealous and threatened. I’m actually very familiar with my wife’s parents love story. “I don’t know what else babies need,” Katniss says, slowly. We’re entering Victor’s Village.

            “I’ll tell you what they don’t need!” a drunken voice slurs across the open space and gardens. “Giant stuffed animals!” I look over at Haymitch’s house, and find him sitting on a bench on the porch, a bottle clutched in one hand. I forgot he had some stashed in the house. The geese are milling about his lawn, tramping through the grass and kicking up dirt, probably plotting their own rebellion.

            “What are you talking about?” Katniss asks, taking a step towards him. In answer he points to our house. I turn and see a giant lavender bear sitting on our front porch. It looks like a blown up version of what I’ve seen children in the Capitol playing with. “You have got to be kidding me!” Katniss’ voice rips through the air, and even though she’s behind me, I know she’s turned to see what Haymitch is point at. She steps into my field of vision; all waddle gone from her walk. She’s marching purposefully. The bear itself only breaks her stride. A pit drops into my stomach as I notice the light lavender color of the bear. It is also too large for Katniss to maneuver around.

            “This is the most pointless thing I’ve ever seen! If you can’t even get it through the front door why bother!” She rounds on my all huff, standing angrily on the porch steps. “How are we supposed to get inside?” I turn to Haymitch.

            “What did the delivery man do?”

            “There were two of them for starters, and last time I checked, sweetheart here can’t do any heavy lifting.”

            “It’s stuffing!” Katniss cries angrily from the porch. “How heavy can it possibly be?” I wave my hand to get her to be quiet.

            “Just come help me, will you Haymitch?” I yell across the lawn at him.

            “No.”

            “No?” I repeat flabbergasted.

            “The last time I helped you, I wound up passing months in the Capitol watching you two spill my alcohol. Complete waste.”

            “I’ll pay for your next case of liquor.”

            “Yeah because as we all know, being a Victor and war hero pays terribly, and I’m so broke there is no other way for me to get alcohol.” I roll my eyes at his sarcasm. Turing away from him, I instantly see Katniss kicking the bear. It shifts a little, the force of her impact causing its skin to almost ripple, but it still remains firmly on the porch.

            “I’ve got the key to the back door,” I call out to her. “Just leave it, and I’ll find someone who isn’t a useless drunk tomorrow.” She stomps angrily back down the stairs and begins to quickly make her way around the house. I shuffle after her as fast as I can. Even pregnant I can’t move as quickly as her when she’s angry, at least not with my prosthetic. I pull the keys out of my pocket as I go. She’s waiting for my, arms crossed and resting on her swollen belly, foot tapping impatiently. I unlock the door. She pushes past me into the kitchen. I hear her slam the bag of bread down on the counter. I walk after her, shrugging off my coat.

            “I’m going to go out on a limb and say this is about more than the bear.”

            “I hate that color,” she snaps, sitting down at the breakfast table, leaning back, taking deep breathes.

            “I hate that color too.”

            “His hair was the color when…”

            “I know.” I shudder. “I used to dream of him after they kidnapped me from the arena, the second time. I’d be on the stage looking at that lavender hair, and then I’d look down and my leg would be bleeding, veins turning black, and I’d look up at him and blood would be coming out of his mouth.” I stop, gagging at the memory, eyes widening a little. Katniss grips my hand. I don’t look at her right away, instead studying her fingernails. They’re bitten down.

            “I don’t want that in the house,” she says firmly. I nod. “See if you can get Yates to help you cut it up tomorrow or something. Maybe you can reuse the fabric…dye it and turn it into a rug or something.

            “I’ll have Delly dye it and sew it into clothes for the kids around town. We’ll figure out something to do with the stuffing.” My voice even sounds shaky. Katniss touches my cheek, turning it up to look directly at her. She brings the hand, clutched in her own to her stomach.

            “You’re not bleeding to death,” she says kindly. I nod. “You just asked Ceasar Flickerman for a stupid gift to make him happy.” I smile sadly a little. “And now we know not to get lavender for the nursery.”

            “Effie will be please. She’s been pushing pink. Apparently it’s what girls usually get.”

            “No that’s the color of his hair now.” She pauses thinking for a moment. “Maybe if we lose all the silverware she won’t notice.” The phone rings. I jump. Katniss waves a hand at me, getting to her feet. “Don’t get up. Take a deep breath.”

            “I’m fine,” I tell her firmly.

            “You were reliving an old nightmare. It’s okay. Besides I owe you from this morning. You got up to get the phone, even though you were sleeping. I’ve got it. Besides I prefer to do things. It was the same back in District 13. I didn’t recover till I agreed to be the Mockingjay and had a purpose again. That’s why we came back here, so I could do things without people breathing down my neck.” She picks up the receiver, running her fingers through the cord as she brings it up to her face still talking. “Hello?”

            There’s a slightly prolonged pause, and I hear a gruff voice answer her. Katniss’ posture changes instantly, her body tense, knuckles whitening on the phone as she grips it tighter.  

“Gale,” she whispers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone had a good holiday! I got some writing done, and I would like to thank everyone for this very kind wonderful feedback. It helped me a lot as I tried to work through this wonderful writer's block. Thank you all so much for the reviews! They've really meant a lot to me, and I probably wouldn't be motivated to finish if it weren't for all of you, so thank you!


	35. Chapter 35: With Love, Dad

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: Parental Loss

I’m on my feet, rushing towards her, hands out stretched to receive the phone. Neither of them says anything, or maybe Gale does and I just can’t hear him over the sound of the chair, I was just sitting in, crashing to the ground. Katniss still has the phone pressed to her cheek. She seems frozen in place. I grab both her shoulders, looking deep into her eyes. I can’t read the expression there, and in a moment of panic, I pull the phone away from her, slamming it back on the receiver. We both stand there for a minute in shock. I’m watching both Katniss and the phone, like either could explode. I open my mouth, no idea what to say.

“I want to lie down,” Katniss whispers. I nod helplessly, and take both her hands, leading her up to the spare bedroom. She sits down heavily on the bed, and I find one of my large t-shirts, offering it to her. She stretches out a hand, and I allow her to take it. As she slips into it I find some of the stretchy leggings Effie bought for her, and toss her those as well. I grip the edge of the dresser to take several steading deep breaths. She’s already under the covers by the time I turn around, facing towards the center of the bed. I crawl onto the other side and wrap her in my arms.

“Where’s your head?” I ask softly.

“The last time I heard him…” she shudders. The memory of the blood streaked across the pillow flashes before me, and I shudder too. I pull her closer to me. She clutches at my t-shirt. “Stay with me?”

“Always. I won’t leave you,” I promise. “Take deep breathes with me.” I begin going through Dr. Aurelius’ breathing exercises. Her breaths begin to match mine. We lie in bed, still under the covers breathing together, as one being, I close my eyes, feeling the places we’re pressed together, listening to her breath and mine. I lose track of what sounds are hers and which are mine. I tangle my fingers in her hair, pressing my lips against her forehead. She nuzzles into me, pressing an ear to her favorite spot.

“Can you tell me a happy memory,” I request.

“You’re not sick.”

“No. I just want to think of you happy. I want to picture it.” She sucks in her breath. I can’t see her face, but I imagine creases forming in her forehead as she tries to think of one.

“Did I…did I ever tell you about the day I gave Gale one of my father’s bows?” I shake my head. A pang hits me in the chest, but she’s already talking again. I don’t have time to analyze it. “I’d been holding off giving it to him because we only had so many, and also my father made it…back then, those bows felt like my only connection to him. I wasn’t a strong hunter yet, not nearly as skilled as he’d been. However touching those bows and shooting his arrows, made me feel like I was still holding a piece of him in my hands. I’d hear his voice instructing me, giving me advice, in the instant before I’d shoot. I didn’t want Gale to have one.”

“We’d been hunting together for maybe a few months, and he’d been teaching me snares. I’d let him shoot the bow a couple of times, but he wanted one. That way he could hunt without me on the days when I couldn’t come out into the woods. Part of me didn’t want to give it to him, so he’d have to be dependent on me and would keep teaching me snares. He was my only friend.”

“So this was after you guys stopped bickering over every kill?” I ask. She told me about her history with Gale a long time ago.

“We had started to work together, but hadn’t completely gotten the hang of it yet. This day though, we were out in the woods hunting after school. I believe it was a Wednesday. I was only thirteen, so Gale was probably fifteen. It was fall and the ground was starting to freeze. Gale had brought the supplies to put block the strawberries from other animals. He wanted to check the snares and then head the bush, when I heard the snapping twigs. I had the bow in the quiver and ready to fire in an instant, but I was too late. There was a lone wild dog coming at me.”

“It was probably at least twice my size. My heart was pounding and I think Gale let out a howl of fear or…rage. I don’t know. It pounced on him. I remember watching it take a bite out of his arm, and I fired. My aim was off though. The arrow hit the animal in the shoulder of its front right leg, and it snarled, rounding on me. I snapped another bow into place, and it came charge towards me. I had a split second to decide. There was only enough time to shoot one more arrow, and I wasn’t a good enough shot yet to bring a monster like that down with one shot. I ran instead, dropping my bow as a I scrambled up a tree. Gale had made it up a neighboring tree.”

“How is this a good memory?” I interrupt.

“I’m getting there. You need to be more patient,” she scolds me. “The dog was circling under the trees, knocking into them, trying to make us fall. It must have been off in the brain, because I’d never seen an animal behave like that before…it was a little bit like the mutts in the games.” I suck in a breath, hissing. “This is a happy memory. I swear!” she continues.

“It had been scratching the trunk of my tree for maybe three or four minutes, when it spotted my bow. The arrows were still slung over my back. It walked over to it, sniffing, and then without warning, it bit into the wood, snapping the wood in half. It tossed it around in its mouth, scattering bits of the wood my father carved into the wilderness. I was frozen. It felt like a balloon was in my chest and was about to explode. For a second I felt the way I did when I saw my mother collapsing outside the entrance to the mine, the way I felt when I realized he was dead.”

“Katniss…” I whisper, griping her even tighter. Her body pressed into my mine, and I could feel her fingers digging into my back. I trailed my fingers over her shoulders, feeling tense muscles. She shushes me.

“It’s happy I promise.” I can hear the tears forming. “I felt like I was losing him all over again because at the base of the bow, at the very bottom. He’d carved a message for me. He made me that bow when I was only eight or nine, and it was getting to small for me. I had still been using it because I wasn’t ready to stop trailing my fingers over the message whenever I got a chance. He’d carved in, ‘With Love, Dad.’ One second it was in my hand, the next it was gone.” There’s a long time. Neither of us says anything. We just hold each other, till she feels ready to continue in a whisper.

“I heard this animal sound of rage, pain, and fury. For maybe half a second I thought it was coming from the dog, but then I felt the air on the back of my throat and realized I was making it. The evil thing heard me, and yelped. It probably thought I was about to kill and ran off into the distance. I hoped down from the tree and dropped to my knees on the ground, and started trying to find the carving. I was convinced none of it survived. I ran my hands over the earth, but all I could find was the string. I held it to my chest, and started making that choking sound. Gale hopped down from his own tree, and pressed a hand to my shoulder. He tried to wrap me into his arms, but I didn’t like him touching me. We weren’t close enough where I felt I could accept physical comfort from him yet. I pushed him off, and stood up and marched home.”

“I didn’t tell my mother or Prim what happened. Mom had only recently started being a person again, and Prim was too little. I just cried outside the house, till I felt well enough to go inside. Neither of them noticed. The next day I didn’t go the woods. I headed straight home after school, and started on some washing that had been sitting around the past few days. Mom had been attending to a patient across town and hadn’t gotten to it. Prim was looking after Lady, when Gale showed up. I was hanging the clothes on the small line outside the house. He didn’t say anything to me, but I could tell he’d been out in the woods. He sat down on a stone outside the front door, and we continued not talking. I hung up the rest of the laundry and turned to him. He just held out a hand to me, and I saw a little piece of wood there. It wasn’t the whole carving. It just said, ‘Love-Da’. I took this deep shaking breath when I saw it, and felt relief just flooding through me.”

“He didn’t say anything. I had never even realized that Gale had noticed me touching the carving before. I always thought of it as something only I had noticed, but he’d seen it once or twice. He found the torn up pieces of wood from my bow and sifted through them till he found the biggest, and probably most important bit. The next day when we went into the woods, I started using my father’s old favorite bow, and I gave Gale the spare. Those were the two he made for himself. That was when Gale and I completely stopped fighting each other and became friends.” My chest contracts again. She’s not speaking anymore though, and I delve into the feeling causing the pain. It’s not the jealousy that I expected. It’s an old touch of sadness.

“You two were close.” She makes a noncommittal noise in the back of her throat. Perhaps she doesn’t want to talk about it anymore because she doesn’t want to upset me. “Very close.” I keep probing. She sits up, untangling her limbs from mine. I instantly miss her warmth.

“He was my friend, only my friend. And yes maybe for a split second during the most confusing period of my life, after the games and during the rebellion, I thought it was something else. Only because he was the person I had been able to consistently rely on. I was wrong though.”

“I’m not saying it was romantic or anything like what you and I have,” I tell her quickly, sitting up as well. I can just make out her third trimester belly in the dim light of the room. “It’s just…you were close once, and for all your talk about how you wouldn’t have been alive if it weren’t for me and the bread all those years ago, it’s just as true that if it wasn’t for him you wouldn’t be alive either.”

“That’s the stupidest thing I ever heard. I’d been keeping my family going for _months by myself_ , before he showed up! We’d have been just fine if I never met Gale.”

“Well then he just made things a lot easier and brought a lot of joy to your life. I asked you for a happy memory, and you told me about a time he returned a piece of your father to you. He was a big part of your life. Now you can’t even speak anymore. It’s sad. That’s all I’m saying.”

“I won’t be friends with him Peeta. He told the media about the baby, and don’t ask me how I know, I just do! Not to mention the bomb in the Capitol and working with Beetee in special defenses in 13…he got…if he hadn’t…”She cokes up, unable to continue, and I wrap my arms around her again.

“I know,” I whisper quietly. “I know.” I take a breathe, trying to think of the best way to word what I’m thinking. “I’m not jealous of him anymore Katniss, and I’m not saying you have to be friends with him again. I was only trying to say that it’s sad you two aren’t in each other’s lives anymore. That doesn’t have to change…but it would be nice if maybe you weren’t so hopeful that the new world he built for himself was about to be destroyed.”

“Are you defending him?”

“No. Maybe I just want you to be able to believe that someone who has hurt you the way he has, is capable of not maliciously causing you harm.” She doesn’t respond to that, but she seems to be thinking about it. We lie in bed together, softly considering my words, until sleep over powers us.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I missed last week's update. It's finals...it's still finals, I just no longer have the energy to care. Hope you don't mind the wait, and that you liked the chapter. This is one of my favorites. Although it was difficult to write because of how complicated things are with Gale. I think the way Peeta feels is that Gale got a sour end of the deal and that he's being blamed for things he might not have done. Katniss on the other hand thinks he certainly did it, because of the evidence to the contrary. They both have pretty good points, and they're being difficult and refusing to compromise. Anyway, sorry for the rant, hope you enjoy the update.


	36. Chapter 36: Nice Fluids

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings: Panic Attack

            “What if we went in at an angle?” Yates asks from the other side of the lavender plush mass.

            “What if you took a pick ax to it?” Haymitch calls. He’s sitting on our porch drinking and not helping.

            “To the bear or the door, Haymitch?” I yell back.

            “Either!” he responds gleefully. “Both are Capitol made! Neither would be missed!”

            “We’ll save the remains,” Katniss adds from the living room, flipping through a book. “Something to throw at Cesar if he ever tries to visit.”

            “Why do all victors have such a dark sense of humor?” Yates asks, as he tilts the bear. He comes into my field of vision as the purple fabric moves down. I’m standing just past the doorframe trying to pull the stuffed animal through the narrow space. At Yates’ word I glance at Katniss. She’s giving me a knowingly look, mouth drawn in a tight frown, eyebrows just creased. I hear Haymitch let out a loud sigh. I can just imagine him rolling his eyes.

            “Better than not laughing at all,” I tell Yates, grabbing the bear’s ears and pulling. My feet begin to slide forward and I try to brace them better, just as Yates pushes. The bear’s head begins to move into the house, pushing me backwards. I land on the floor, just as the nose catches and makes a ripping sound.

            “That was a gift!” Haymitch says, in a slightly higher nasal sounding voice. Is he trying to imitate Effie?

            “Manners!” Katniss snaps, in a perfect Capitol accent. Yates and I both burst out laughing. I hear the couch creak, and turn to see my wife walking over towards us, belly leading the way.

            “It’s just such a waste of time,” she says, crossing her arm, leaning against a wall in the hall, arms crossed, frowning. “I’m not putting it in the baby’s room. It gives me the creeps. Why did you even ask for it Peeta?”

            “It seemed like a great way to get him to stop talking,” I tell her honestly, kicking the bit of the head that managed to make it into the house out again. I still have not risen from the floor. The bear leaves a small tuft of stuffing on the ground from the rip in its nose.

            “We could cut it up,” Yates suggests. “Delly and Sae could turn it into pillows. There’s enough stuffing and fabric.”

            “Have them dye it!” Haymitch adds.

            “Perfect,” Katniss says with a note of finality. “Then…I guess we’ll just leave it on the porch.”

            “Wonderful,” Yates and I both say at the same time.

            “Lazy bums,” Haymitch mutters.

            “Would you like some tea Yates?” Katniss asks.

            “No, Katniss,” he answers, smiling at her. I’ve noticed everyone in town beaming at us the past few days. “I’ve got to get back to the bakery. Thanks though.”

            “Of course he has to get back to the bakery. He needs to gawk at Delly, without asking her out while he still can,” I say, stepping out onto the porch, and beginning to yank the bear to the side, so it’s no longer blocking the entrance.

            “I will ask her out, eventually. You of all people should know this kind of thing takes patience.” He picks up the other end of the bear, and together we set it down next to Haymitch.

            “Take it from me Yates,” Katniss yells from inside the house. “Peeta’s move is risker, and, as much as I love him, I could have done without the public proclamations. You’re safer just asking her to dance the next time the fiddler strikes up a tune.” Yates chuckles as I scoff, before turning my attention back to my old drunk mentor.

            “There you are Haymitch,” I tell him, straightening the bear so it can sit up right. “Cesar sent you a friend because he knew you were feeling lonely.” Haymitch snorts, before bring the flask to his lips and tilting his head back. Yates claps me on the shoulder and waves to Katniss, who is now standing in the doorway.

            “See you Yates!”

            “Thanks for the help!” Just as his form disappears from sight the phone rings. My heart stops. Katniss pauses for a second. Haymitch looks between the two of us.

            “You going to get that?”

            “Yes,” Katniss says slowly. “Peeta…” I walk past Haymitch and reenter my home. Katniss is pressed against the wall in the entryway. It seems to take me an eternity to reach the ringing phone in the kitchen.

            “Hello?” I say cautiously, pressing the plastic to my cheek.

            “Peeta!” Dr. Aurelius’ voice greets me. I feel a weight life from my chest.

            “Dr. Aurelius!” I say loudly. I’d called him earlier about Gale, before Katniss woke up. My wife lets out her breath in the hall. “What can I do for you?”

            “Well, I was calling to remind you that I scheduled an appointment for you with Dr. Clora for tomorrow,” Dr. Aurelius says in a knowing voice. He promised he’d call later to talk to Katniss.

            “Yes,” I confirm. “We’ll be there.”

            “Wonderful! How is everything going?”

            “It’s been a slow morning.”

            “Slow can be good.” I glance at Katniss. She’s leaning on the doorframe in the kitchen now, frowning at me. “So,” the psychiatrist continues, “She hasn’t brought up Commander Hawthorne again?”

            “No. It didn’t come up yesterday afternoon or this morning.”

            “Can you be more specific with me Peeta? What has her mood been like today? Anything out of the ordinary, since she woke up? I’d just like to get a sense of what I’m walking into before I talk to her.”

            “I’m not sure I can say,” I half whisper into the phone, turning away from Katniss. I hear her let out a huff. Aurelius pauses.

            “She’s standing right there isn’t she?”

            “Yes.”

            “May I talk to her?”

            “Hold on.” I cover the receiver with one palm and turn to see Katniss now standing directly behind me, causing me to jump. She can move too quietly for her own good. Her arms are crossed, a scowl firmly etched on her face. I hold up the phone lamely. “Aurelius…he wants to know if he can speak to you.”

            “I don’t have an appointment to talk to Aurelius right now. He’s not supposed to call till three today.”

            “I know. I think he just wants to check in.” She scoffs.

            “You told him didn’t you?”

            “Told him what?” I ask, trying to sound innocent.

            “Told him that Gale called.”

            “Oh that…yes.”

            “Peeta!” She groans. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

            “That’s fine. Explain that to him.”

            “You had no right to tell him.”

            “I’m worried Katniss. I want you to have the resources you need, and I know that often times you have problems telling Aurelius when something has gone wrong or bring up problems that you have.”

            “Don’t be ridiculous!”

            “I’m not being ridiculous. You do that Katniss!”

            “Name one time I’ve done that.”

            “You didn’t reach out for help when you were having nightmares after our first games. You didn’t ask for help when I was hijacked. You just demanded they send you away. You sat on the couch in the living room wasting away after…the war was over, rather than answer the phone and accept help from Aurelius, and you let yourself panic for two weeks when you thought you were pregnant, because the idea of confiding in me made you panic even more.”

            “I said name one time!”

            “Well more than one came to mind! That is how often this happens Katniss!” My blood is starting to boil. How did this become a fight so quickly?

            “Give me the phone!” I hand it to her, and push my way out of the kitchen without saying a word. I make my way, loudly to the porch, stomping my prosthetic on as many steps as I can. Upon reaching the porch, I instantly see Haymitch, sitting with the stupid purple bear. I knock it over, into the dirt, with one swift kick. He chuckles. 

            “You should know better than to pick a fight with a hormonal pregnant woman. Especially when it’s _your wife_. She not even that sunny and chipper when her ankles aren’t swollen and her back isn’t killing her.”

            “I can’t believe her!” I yell, gesturing wildly towards the door. The anger building up inside me right now makes no sense. “I try to help her and I get my head bitten off!”

            “Take a breath, boy,” Haymitch says quickly. Making a motion with his hands to indicate calming down. “You’re going to work yourself up into an attack.”

            “I’m fine,” I lie. I can feel the venom coursing through me.

            “Yeah and I’m sober,” Haymitch scoffs. “If you’re going to demand that she not be irresponsible and take care of herself, you have to do the same. Logically coming home is going to be just as stressful for you as it will be for her. Go for a walk. Don’t come home, till you can get that trembling in your hands to go away.” He points to my fists, which I have balled at my sides, to hide the twitching that started in the last few seconds. “Go,” he repeats, pointing me in a direction with his whole body. “I’ll hang around here.”

            I take a deep breath and begin to make my way across the gardens of Victor’s Village. I kick a heavy stone on the way out of the gate, which accomplishes nothing other than making me feel angry and broken. I used my prosthetic and the absence of an ache only serves to remind me of the real flesh I’m lacking.

My real foot and my fake foot automatically carry me to the place I spent most of my time at the last few months I was home, the hospital on the edge of town. In the early days of Katniss’ pregnancy I spent all my time going back and forth between here and home. The doors slide open, and I blink once. It looks clean and bright, mostly white, like it has since its construction. After everything that happened it seems like it should look different. I stand for a minute staring at the spot where Dr. Birk and myself placed Katniss on a gurney months ago. Her screams seem to echo back to me through time.

“Peeta!” I jump at the sound of the voice that calls my name, unable to take my eyes off the sport where months before my wife had been strapped down. I can’t turn to look at the speaker. “I’m surprised to see you here. I didn’t think Katniss’ appointment was till tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” I repeat in a haze. “Right.”

“Peeta? Are you alright?” A hand claps on my shoulder and I jump away from him, finally turning to look to see who is speaking to me. Dr. Birk stands to my right, staring at me, confused. His eyes drop to my hands, which are twitching worse than ever now. He lets out a sigh. “Why don’t you come back with me?”

            “Back where?” I ask, beginning to feel the panic I associate with white coats pulling me places. An image of a capitol doctor flashes before my eyes, and I start to back away from Birk. He holds up both his hands.

            “Just to an exam room. I can get you some water.” I shiver. The sound of rushing water fill my ears, followed by shocking zap, and a shattering scream from a familiar voice. Birk grabs my wrist, and I instantly try to twist away.

            “Stay in this time frame, Peeta,” he says gently but firmly. “Don’t slip backwards.”

            “Water,” I repeat, choked.

            “Doesn’t have to be water. It could be juice instead, or a nice IV with some wonderful fluid in it. You like fluid don’t you?”

            “I…” a sense of confusion is overcoming me. Am I in the Capitol or the District? “I’m in the Capitol, real or not real?”

            “Not real. It’s okay Peeta,” the man standing before me says. “You’re in District 12. Your name is Peeta Mellark. You’re twenty-two years old. You own a bakery in town, and you live in Victor’s Village with your pregnant wife Katniss.” That’s right. I swallow hard, and close my eyes, picturing Katniss’ baby bump. My heart rate begins to slow. I hadn’t even realized it was beating faster.

            “Come back to an exam room Peeta. I’ll set you up on an IV, we can talk, and I’ll call Katniss and Haymitch to come get you.” I nodded, and let him steer me into a back room. I keep my eyes closed as the needle pierces my skin, and try to make myself comfortable on the padded table.

            “What happened?”

            “Katniss and I got into a little spat, and I…I lost my temper with her, because she didn’t want to talk to the therapist about something.”

            “And you felt an attack coming on, so you left the house?”

            “Haymitch noticed my hands twitching…”

            “Well, you know by now that you’re more susceptible to attacks during times of great stress. I can’t imagine that trying to help Katniss adjust to being back in twelve is all that relaxing.” I shudder.

            “We rushed this…we aren’t ready.”

            “I’m sure Aurelius wouldn’t have let you leave if he thought it was going to detrimental.”

            “I’m not talking about that…the baby…” I feel like my throat is closing up. I’m having problems breathing. “I have attacks and…this nearly killed her…I don’t know what I was thinking!” My voice is getting louder.

            “Take a deep breath Peeta,” Birk asks alarm filling his voice. “You’re white as a sheet. Are you having problems breathing?” I nod. “I’m going to get you a glass of water. Try to lean back and relax.”

            “I feel like I’m dying,” I choke. There’s a pressure building in my chest, which is not helped by my pounding heart.

            “You’re having a minor panic attack. That’s normal. It’ll pass in a few minutes. I’ll get you some water and call Katniss.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone had a great holiday, and is getting ready for the New Year. I know I enjoyed the time off and wrote two more chapters for this. I'm even toying with the idea of a very short sequel, since the writer's block seems to be wearing off. I'm sorry if I'm not responding to my comments as quickly. Maybe that should be my new year's resolution. Don't let that deter you from leaving one! I hope you enjoyed this nice long update and that the stuffed animal abuse made you laugh.


	37. Chapter 37: I Want Whatever They Gave Him

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: Panic Attack discussion

“Where is he!” She sounds hysterical…terrifying. Her voice reaches me from some from some far off distant place. Birk gave me a dose of some kind of calming drug. Not morphling, he said, but apparently something milder that they give to patients who have a phobia of needles so they aren’t afraid to receive injections. Apparently it also works for minor panic attacks. I haven’t felt this calm in years, and I’m enjoying the feeling while lying on the padded exam room table.

            “I’m not waiting for anyone! You’re going to tell me where he is now!” I hear the muffled response of whomever she’s talking to. “Because I’ve gone through a lot more significant obstacles to get to him.” It’s a loud hiss. She’s really upset. A gruff voice says something, a little louder than first muffled voice, but I still can’t make anything out. “I don’t want to hear it Haymitch! I just want to see my husband!”

            “Katniss!” I recognize Birk’s voice. “Look at you! You’re glowing.”

            “Where’s Peeta!”

            “And I see you’re feeling more like yourself.” Katniss doesn’t respond, but I hear Dr. Birk say, “That’s a terrifying face.”

            “I just want to see my husband.”

            “Of course. He’s in the first exam room, resting. Wait! Katniss I was hoping to have a word with you before -” I don’t hear the rest of his sentence, over the sound of the door opening. I hazily look at my wife. Her hair is braided in the usual manner, and a read knit maternity sweater covers her thirty-one week pregnant belly.

            “Katniss!” I say happily.  She frowns at me, and then rounds on Birk, who is standing behind her in the doorway.

            “You gave him something.”

            “Just the calming drug we give to nervous patients. It’ll wear off in about twenty minutes.”

            “What happened exactly,” Katniss demands, entering the room and allowing the two men behind her to come in as well. I smell Haymitch before I see him.

            “He wondered in looking upset, hands twitching. I thought he was on the verge of an attack, so I brought him back her to give him an IV and a glass of water. I was talking to him, trying to keep him grounded, and he said something, before his breathing became erratic. He described feeling like he was dying, and I conquered he was having a panic attack.”

            “What did he say?”

            “You should really ask him that yourself when he’s better.”

            “I’m fine,” I cut in, waving a hand around jovially. “Perfectly relaxed. I’m not even sure what you’re talking about Birk.”

            “Yes,” Katniss says sarcastically. “I imagine that has nothing to do with the medication.” She turns back to Birk. “I want to take him home.”

            “Well…maybe we should wait for the medication to wear off.” 

            “No,” she says firmly. “He hates doctors, too much poking and prodding in the Capitol and District 13. If you want to keep him calm, the medication should wear off when he isn’t here.”

            “He hasn’t been formally admitted or checked in, so he’s free to leave at anytime.” Katniss turns to me.

            “Peeta, I think you should come home with me. What do you think?” I feel pleasantly out of it, and am not in a mood to argue.

            “I think you’re the one with the amazing survival instincts.” She lets out a sigh.

            “I’m going to say that is your way of telling me you trust me completely.” I nod. She just understands me so perfectly. She helps me sit up, and guides me towards the door.

            “Katniss,” Birk calls after her, following us. “We really need to discuss a treatment plan.”    

            “I have one of those already thanks.”

            “No for Peeta.” We’ve made our way to the lobby now, and Katniss stops, in her persistent march towards the door.

            “What do you mean a treatment plan for Peeta? He’s had the same treatment plan for years. It’s been working wonders.”

            “If he’s having panic attacks that changes things. It’s unclear how that will factor into his brain chemistry after the hijacking is taken into account.”

            “He’s not having _panic attacks_ though,” says Katniss quietly. She glances at me, making eye contact for the briefest of moments. “He had _a panic attack_.”

            “Could be an indication of a trend. You have a point though. It might be best to see what happens for now, but if he has a second I might need to call in experts to make sure he’s getting the care he needs.”

            “You mean more tests in the Capitol. Every time you call the experts to, as you say, make sure he’s getting the care he needs, they haul him back to the Capitol, for weeks!”

            “I’m aware Katniss, and I don’t want that to happen just as much as you, especially given your present condition. However if Peeta is getting worse, he might be more of a hindrance to you as you attempt to take care of a new born. I’m only thinking of what’s best for the three of you.” Katniss takes a deep shaking breath.

            “Dr. Birk, it’s no secret that this…pregnancy…has been difficult for me. If Peeta gets shipped back to the Capitol, it will be _very_ bad for all three of us.” Birk takes a minute or two before he responds, carefully looking at Katniss as he does.

            “Well, no one has been called yet. They might not need to be if this is a one-time occurrence. Have him speak with Dr. Aurelius, and try to keep him as calm and relaxed as possible. Don’t pick any fights, make sure he gets rest, and very light exercise. When is your next appointment with Dr. Clora?”

            “Tomorrow.”

            “Wonderful. Have Peeta stop by my office afterwards. I’d like to talk to him when he’s not…” Birk trails off, and both of them turn to stare at me. I smile. I personally don’t see what either of them are so worked up about. A panic attacks sounds like such a strange concept, when my muscles are so relaxed, and my breathing is so slow.

            “Thank you Dr. Birk.” Katniss says curtly and she, Haymitch, and I walk out of the hospital. Katniss leads me by the crock of my elbow.

            “How do you feel?” she asks.

            “Peaceful.”

            “I want whatever they gave him,” Haymitch mutters darkly. “Might be useful if I ever want to sleep again.” Katniss doesn’t respond. We silently walk, and around the time we’re passing into Victor’s Village the drugs begin to wear off and a feeling of dread overcomes me. I stop just as we’re about to go the gate, staring blankly into the manicured main area of the village. Katniss stops with me, studying my face carefully. Haymitch goes a few more paces, notices our absence, and halts as well, turning to face us. I feel Katniss’ hand on my shoulder, rubbing softly.

            “What are you thinking?”

            “I have to go the Capitol, and leave you. Real or not real?”

            “Not real,” Katniss whispers. “Focus on the here and now. Feel the air on your skin, and my hand on your shoulder. This is all going to pass. We’re going to get into the house and call Dr. Aurelius. I’ll make you a cup of tea. It’s going to be fine.” She tugs lightly on my arm and I begin to move again. We make our way to the house, Haymitch now following a few steps behind us. I glance at the bear as we enter. It seems menacing all of the sudden, looming over me. Katniss follows my gaze briefly before quickly unlocking the door. She and Haymitch practically have to drag me into the house. Once I’m sitting on a couch in the study, my wife excuses herself to quickly make tea. Haymitch lightly claps me on the shoulder.

            “Makes you appreciate not having her brain doesn’t it?”

            “What?”

            “The panic attacks…I mean sweetheart gets them all the time, so it had to at least be…like a snap shot maybe into her head throughout all of this.” I stare at him hard, unable to read his facial expression. “How did it feel…to go through that…I mean?”

            “You’ve never had one?”

            “No. After my games I picked the path of slowly becoming as immobile as possible. Spiraling into a deep depression and drinking seemed to expend less energy,” he responds, eye wide, staring off into space.

            “I always underestimate how lazy you are,” I quip back. Neither one of use speaks for a few moments. “It wasn’t pleasant…it felt like I was being crushed by the weight of…my life…everything, Katniss, the baby, the media, having attacks. It was all suddenly resting on my chest. I felt like I was going to die.”

            “Imagine being pregnant and having that…feeling like you and your child are going to die…I couldn’t…” he trails off, and I shudder violently at his words. Neither of us speaks again till the door open and Katniss comes in with three cups of tea. It seems to wake Haymitch from a trance.

            “I should go,” he says standing up. He’d been siting on the arm of the couch. I hadn’t even noticed. Katniss looks at him surprised.

            “You can stay for tea if you want Haymitch, you have to be hungry.”

            “No,” he insists. “You should call Aurelius as soon as you can. Just call later on tonight if you need anything.” He moves past me and touches Katniss’ shoulder gently as he leaves. She watches him go silently, face blank. She doesn’t turn back to me for a few moments after the door closes.

            “He’s so odd sometimes,” she says, holding a cup of tea out to me.

            “He’s worried.”

            “I know,” she snaps. “Take your tea.” I clench my hands together trying to quiet the shaking. I thought I could do it subtly without her noticing, but she lets out a sigh, and sets the mug back down. “We need to call Aurelius.” I take a deep breath.

            “I don’t want to leave you.”

            “Look at me,” I focus my eyes on her, and am surprised to find them unwavering. She seems to be getting larger and becoming more solid with every passing moment.

            “That will never happen,” the mother of my child says firmly. “I will never let that happen, not again. Wherever either of us needs to be is where we will be, and we will be together as a family. If they want to drag you back to the Capitol, then I will be there with you.”

            “What if that means she can’t be born here? It’s so important to you she come into the world in District 12,” I moan. “We just got home, and I’ve ruined it.” She grabs my hand and squeezes.

            “Where she is born is not as important to me as the fact that when she is born you are there and you are healthy.” With her free hand she cups my cheek, running her thumb just below my eyes. “Listen to me though. Birk said you might not need to go to the Capitol at all. Worrying about it now won’t do you any good, because we don’t know what we’re dealing with.”

            “What if it’s the worst case scenario? I’m getting worse and we have to go back?” I ask, beginning to feel the panic build up in me again.

            “Listen to me Peeta. You are feeling anxious and overwhelmed right now. This happens to be my area of expertise. Don’t assume the worst will happen. That is guaranteed to bring one another panic attack. It’s going to be okay, because we’re going to find out exactly what we’re dealing with. Once you know what it is, everything becomes a lot less scary. It’s the unknown that makes you anxious.” I take a deep breath. Katniss takes it with me. I stare into her eyes for a moment, focusing on the feeling of her fingers squeezing mine. For an instant it seems like once she lets go, I’ll float away.

            “How do we find out what this is?” She lets out a frustrated sigh.

            “We have to call Dr. Aurelius…I can’t believe I’m going to have to talk to that man twice in one day now!” A small smile plays across my lips. No matter what happens next, at least I will always be able to count on Katniss hating doctors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, I have been working on this story a lot over the past few weeks, while I'm on break. I have written at least 20,000 words in the past few weeks, and I planned out how the rest of the story is going to go. Assuming I don't change my mind, there will be 52 chapters, plus an epilogue, which is why this story is now listed has having 53 Chapters. All I can say, is I've been writing this for almost a year now, and it's become much longer than I ever thought it would be, and has gotten more popular than I thought. It cleared sixteen thousand views with the last chapter! So thank you everyone for reading, without you, I probably would have given up a long time ago!


	38. Chapter 38: Unstable

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings: Discussion of Panic Attacks and Self Harm

            “I’m sorry. I just need to understand exactly what happened.” Aurelius is cut off by a frustrated sigh from Katniss. We’re both sitting on the couch, the phone resting on the coffee table in between us. It’s set to speaker. “Katniss, this wouldn’t be taking this long if you weren’t interrupting me.”

            “Yes, well I’m feeling frustrated.” Katniss snaps.

            “Where do you think that is coming from?” Aurelius prompts.

            “It’s coming from the fact that we’ve been on the phone for twenty minutes, and we’ve told you what happened. I’ve said it. Peeta’s said it, but you’re making us go over it, again. It’s not that complicated. He walked into the hospital and had a panic attack.”

            “Yes I understand that Katniss. However in order to really be helpful I need to know about the build up. You said he left to go for a walk. Did anything happen before he left the house?” We both pause, before I answer.

            “We had an argument.”

            “I see,” he says slowly. Katniss lets out a huff. “When did the argument occur?”        

            “While I was handing the phone to Katniss when you called this morning.”

            “That’s a fast argument,” Aurelius comments. “Katniss you didn’t mention it.”

            “It’s not what you called me to talk about. You wanted me to talk about Gale. You both wanted me to talk about Gale.”

            “I was worried about you, and I’m not going to apologize for that,” I snap at her. “The last time you heard his voice you took a knife to your ear. Then he calls and you answer the phone, you hear his voice…it would be stupid of me not to be concerned.”

            “If I may cut in here,” the psychologist says, more loudly this time. “We’re not talking about Gale right now, or the argument. We’re talking about Peeta’s flashback followed by a panic attack. I was merely commenting on the fact that I did not detect that the two of you had an argument when I called earlier. I apologize if I got us off track.” No one speaks for a minute.

            “So then, Katniss was upset that you informed me that Gale contacted you?”

            “Yes,” Katniss says pointedly. “I was.”

            “Peeta, is there a reason you were upset?” I don’t answer right away. Katniss glances at me, and we make eye contact. She raises her eyebrows and jerks her head towards the phone.

            “It all feels unstable,” I say dully. Aurelius pauses, and Katniss scrunches her eyebrows together.

            “Unstable? Interesting. You’re upset because everything feels unstable?”

            “I’m sorry,” I say, leaning forward and burying my face in my hands. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I know I keep saying that everything is going to be fine, Katniss. I know I say that, but it’s not just going to magically become fine. You have panic attacks. I have flashbacks, and we’re having a baby. It all seems unstable, because it is, and I want it to be more stable before the baby comes. It won’t get that way and it won’t be fine, if you don’t take your treatment seriously. I need you to stop hiding things from me and from Aurelius.”

            “You feel Katniss has been hiding things?”

            “I know she has been. She suspected she was pregnant for two weeks before she told me, and she didn’t want you to know that Gale called. And it’s all just too much.” I groan.

            “What is too much Peeta?” Katniss asks sounding angry all of the sudden. “Me having a baby, is that too much? Because you choose that!”           

            “I know that, and I know I don’t have the right to ask you for anything else, Katniss…it’s just…”

            “What!” she demands, half screaming now.

            “I’m scared that you’re going to relapse when the baby comes if you don’t take care of yourself. I’m scared that if you aren’t open with how you’re feeling something will go wrong, and you won’t get better. Then I’ll be under too much pressure between taking care of you and taking care of a newborn. I’ll snap, and I don’t want to even think about what would happen to Willow…” A ringing silence follows this statement. It seems to drag on. I can almost hear Aurelius beginning to doze off when finally Katniss speaks.

            “So what do you want to do about that,” she asks dully. “Because it sounds like you’re saying you don’t want this baby after all.”

            “That’s not what I’m saying,” I tell her quickly, grabbing her shoulders. “I want this so badly Katniss, just thinking about losing you and our family, and everything we have, makes me want to die.” She doesn’t respond.

            “Katniss has brought up a good point though Peeta. You’ve raised an issue and she would like to know what you want to do about it. She deserves an answer.” I take a deep breath.

            “I want…I want you to be honest Katniss. I don’t want you to feel like you need to spare me the pain by denying what’s really going on because you feel like it will cause me distress. I need you to be more open with Aurelius, so that I know you’re getting the most out of your treatment.”

            “Katniss,” Aurelius asks. “How do you feel about that?”

            “I’ll allow it,” she whispers, running her fingers through my hair, “But only if…if you promise to trust me. Because at the end of the day it is my treatment, and I get to make the final decision about what I do and do not do with it. However, I need you to know that I will always make the decision that I feel is right for you and me and our family.” I swallow deeply, and nod.

            “Okay,” I say hoarsely.

            “Okay!” Aurelius says brightly. “That was a very productive, open and honest conversation. I think we’re making real progress here. My only concern is the panic attack itself. You say it was proceeded by flashbacks?”

            “Yes,” I confirm.

            “I suspect that was a big contributing factor. You’d had an agreement. You were stressed. You were relieving painful memories. At this time I don’t feel a repeat incident is likely, so further testing isn’t needed at this time.” Katniss lets out a deep sigh of relief, her fingers clutching my own. I feel my own muscles release some kind of tension I didn’t even realize I was holding in.

            “For the next few days though, I think it’s best if you both take it easy.” Katniss frowns.

            “What does that even mean?”

            “I mean you have some time before the baby comes. Go to your appointments, keep up with the light exercise and healthy meals, but enjoy this time together. Don’t worry about the nursery for the next couple of days. You still have another few weeks. About two months or so if I’m not mistaken. Go for walks, cook elaborate meals, spend the whole day in bed. Take a few days to enjoy each other’s company and relax. This is the last time it’s going to be just the two of you for years. Spending it stressed out and worried about each other is not a good way to end this period of your life together.” Katniss frowns for a minute, before her eyebrows shoot up, and she seems to suddenly come alive with an idea.

            “But we have a lot we need to get done,” I say hesitantly.

            “Peeta, knowing you it will still get done, even if you take a couple of days off.” I don’t answer looking at Katniss.

            “It sounds nice actually,” she says, looking back at my hopefully.

            “But what if…”

            “I’m not saying ignore pressing things if they come up, just take a few days to really enjoy yourselves and this time and get some much needed rest. It isn’t wise to go into dealing with a newborn while tense.”

            “Peeta,” Katniss says. “I am agreeing with Aurelius. This almost never happens, and I think it will do both of us some good. Plus what does us good, does Willow good.” There is such a note of finality in her voice; I have no choice but to agree. As she hangs up with Aurelius, I turn to her.

            “Do you even know how to relax?”

            “No, but I’m choosing to look at this as a learning experience.” Her voice sounds suggestive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a bit of an odd chapter, because it's all a conversation with Aurelius. I maybe should have combined it with the last chapter, but initially since they seemed to be delving into such emotional topics, I thought it would do alright on it's own. I'm thinking about maybe updating again, sometime this week. Let me know what you think.


	39. Chapter 39: We Were Whole

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE READ BEFORE: There is a more graphic sexual scene at the beginning of this chapter (that is still probably more tame than other stories you can find). If you're easily offended and don't want to read it, just skip the first three paragraphs, and all you need to know is that doorbell starts ringing, obnoxiously.

A few days later finds us in bed. After our appointment with Clora and brief conversation with Birk, we returned home to spend a few days truly enjoying our privacy and reacquainting ourselves with each other’s bodies. Or more accurately, I spent the afternoon worshiping Katniss’ pregnant form, learning how to make her squirm, writhe, and moan in this new state. For her I imagine my body felt the same as it normally does. We’re coming to the end of one of these sessions. I can feel that she’s almost there. My tongue twirling teasingly over one of her pleasure points, while one of my hands is stretched up rolling a nipple between my fingers, when the doorbell rings.

            “Ig-OH!” Katniss begins, before being cut off by a powerful shriek as I begin to suck. “Pre-ah-tend we’re,” she pauses taking deep breaths, “we’re not, h-oh you can’t ever stop doing this.” I chuckle into her, making her release a gratifying choking sound. I have to hand it to Aurelius, not doing anything has actually proven to be very enjoyable. The doorbell rings again. Katniss lets out an angry, frustrated groan, not at all the affect I was going for. She sits up, touching my head, applying pressure, to gently push me away.

            “What happened to don’t ever stop?” I ask, briefly, just pulling myself away from her. She lets out a desperate sigh, and for an instant allows my face to slip through her fingers back to where I know she’s aching the most. After only a few seconds of contact though, the doorbell begins to ring again, and again and again. Katniss lets out an angry shriek. I separate myself from her, licking her off my lips, as she searches for something to cover herself with. I race to the door, grabbing my own boxers and pants off the floor. I manage to dress faster than Katniss, we’re lucky that I’d come only a few minutes before and hadn’t had the time to get hard again.

            “I’ll get it,” I tell her quickly, face flushed, as I desperately grab for a shirt, tossing it aside when I realize it’s hers. “It’s got to be Delly,” I groan, pulling one over my head. “Yates said she was insisting on stopping by today when I talked to him yesterday.”

            “Peeta,” Katniss snapped, wearily. “I can get the door.”

            “Don’t get dressed. I don’t want you to get dressed. We were almost there. Two seconds to get rid of Delly, and we’ll get there.” Adrenaline is pumping through my body, at being interrupted. She bites her lip, cheeks flushed, lips red, looking at me, tempted. I have gotten so much better at reading her facial expressions.

            “Two seconds?” she asks hesitantly.

            “Two seconds,” I confirm, cupping her face in mind, and kissing her. The doorbell still hasn’t stopped ringing. “Don’t move!” I call to her desperately, dashing out of the room. I nearly trip over my own prosthetic, I’m running to the door so quickly. I crash into it, grabbing wildly at the handle before pulling it open, out of breath. To find my oldest friend standing on the porch, clutching a basket of baked goods.

            “Peeta!” she says brightly, holding tightly to the basket. “How are you? I hope I didn’t interrupt anything. It took you so long to answer the door.”

            “Yes I’m sorry about that Delly,” I begin, noticing that her knuckles are white on the basket. “Katniss and I were just up in bed and.” She cuts me off.

            “Oh an afternoon nap, how wonderful. I’ll just come in and heat these up, so they’re nice and warm when she wakes up.” Before I can do anything, Delly pushes past me, making her way into the kitchen. I blink a couple of times, staring out into the bright sunny day, before my brain catches up to me.

            “No Delly! I can do that! You’ve done too much already,” I call madly, trying to follow her into the kitchen and nearly tripping again.

            “No don’t worry about it! I’m glad to help. I need to talk to you anyway.”

            “Does it have to be now?” I ask, finally making it to the kitchen. She’s already preheating the oven. “I was just um…working on the nursery.”

            “Oh no Peeta,” Delly gasps. “You can’t do that. Yates told me you and Katniss are supposed to be taking a few days off from baby things. Working on the nursery is not taking a break. This is your time, and you have to take care of yourself for Katniss and your daughter.” She’s arranging the bread on a tray to stick in the oven. “Lucky for you, I have the perfect non baby related distraction.” I groan, leaning on the counter, running my hands through my hair. Delly continues, voice deep with concern.

            “Don’t be so hard on yourself Peeta,” she chirps at me, misinterpreting the reasoning for my distress.  It’s hard to relax with so much going on. You just need help, which is why I’m here, to make sure you’re relaxed,”

            “And you succeed!” I say desperately. “I’m relaxed. I’m so relaxed I’m exhausted. I think I’ll go take a nap with Katniss.” Delly keeps talking though, despite the fact that I’ve already turned to leave.

            “Yates asked me out!” I’ll have to remember to tell Yates he has horrible timing. I close my eyes, let all the air out of my lungs, and hope against hope that Katniss figures out quickly that I won’t be coming back up, before turning around, trying to look bright and happy.

            “Well that is great news! Really excellent, and I’m so happy it happened _now_.” I say forcing a smile. Delly furrows her eyebrows in confusion.

            “You are?” she asks, voice lowering a little.

            “You aren’t?” I ask, also confused now.

            “Well it’s just…I didn’t think you would think it was…” her voice drops an octave. “Appropriate. What with him being the boss at the bakery and me helping out.” I roll my eyes.

            “Delly that is temporary. I’ll be back in a few months and Yates won’t be in charge anymore. Besides, it’s not like you work there normally. You’ve been helping out.” Delly still looks unconvinced. “Is there another reason you don’t want to go out with Yates?”

            “Well…he reminds me too much of…Alright Peeta look, I don’t want to upset you.” I let out a frustrated sigh.

            “Delly whether or not you go out with Yates should have nothing to do with me.”

            “But it does!” she insists, looking truly distressed now. I falter at the strong emotional reaction. She takes a deep breath. “It’s just…after the bombings…when you came to District 13 and I told you about your family…you were so heart sick, and through everything that happened after…”she pauses for an instant, inhaling, as though she is building her self up for something. “I could tell you felt so alone, and I stood by you, because I had lost…so much as well. You’re like my family.” A smile crosses my face and my annoyance towards Delly ebbs, just slightly.

            “Your like my family too. I can’t tell you how much you’ve helped over the years Delly, and for that, all the things you’ve done for Katniss and I, we’re very grateful.” I reach out and grab her hand, giving it a light squeeze. “I’m just confused as to what all of this has to do with Yates.” She bites her lip.

            “He’s like your family too.” I balk a little, feeling my eyebrows crease. “Don’t deny it. I’ve seen the way you talk to him. It reminds me of how you were with your brothers.”

            “If I recall you had a crush on one of them as well.”

            “I did not!”

            “Rye!” She blushes.

            “Well, yes, but it was different back then.” She pauses. “We were whole.” The smile vanishes from my face. “You’ve lost so much Peeta. I know you don’t like to talk about it, but before all of this you had two brothers, a mother, and a father. I know you did not have a good relationship with them, or at least not with your mother, but…they were you family, and they’re gone now.”

            “I built a new family Delly. Yes I miss them, and no my new family can never replace them. I’m not alone though. I have Katniss and Haymitch and you.”

            “And Yates,” she states plainly. “I don’t want to ruin the new family you have. I don’t want us to be broken again. Not with everything else that’s going on right now, with Katniss and all.” She waves her hands vaguely. I look at her hard for a few minutes, considering the words I’m about to use.

            “Delly, you’ve done a lot for us over the years. You helped me come back to myself, back to Katniss. You were one of the people who returned to twelve, helped us rebuild and keep going. You’ve loved us and cared for us, at times when we’ve needed you to, but when we couldn’t ask. I have no doubt you’d do it again. If anyone deserves to be happy, it’s you. When it comes to Yates…I don’t want you to think too much about Katniss and I, and what we might need or how it might affect us. If you like Yates and want to try being with him in that way, then you should go out with him. If you don’t think of him that way, then let him down easy. No matter what happens though, you will still be like my sister, and Yates will still be like my brother. We aren’t broken anymore, and we need to enjoy that.” She squeezes my hand harder, tears forming in her eyes, as she nods slowly. I open my arms to her, and we embrace, two old friends, practically siblings, holding on to one another and the ground they’ve regained. She pulls away after an instant, wiping her cheeks of a few stray tears.

            “Sorry,” she hiccups. “I should go, let you get some rest and enjoy your day of doing nothing. I just wanted to check on you after I heard the news.”     

            “The attack? It was nothing, Delly. I’m fine.” She pauses, having previously been collecting her things.

            “You had an attack?” There is genuine surprise and concern in her voice.

            “Minor. It wasn’t related to the hijacking. It was more along the lines of a panic attack. Nothing to worry about though. What were you talking about?” She’s frozen.

            “You haven’t heard?” she asks slowly, voice breaking a little.

            “Heard what?” I demand, feeling more and more defensive with each passing moment.

            “They’re launching the investigation into who leaked the pregnancy…” she trails off.

            “I knew that Delly. I spoke to Plutarch.”

            “But did you know they were broadcasting it? Live…tonight?” My heart stops for an instant. I shake my head, feeling every muscle in my neck tighten with the motion, locking up. “They’re hauling a bunch of the people who reported it early on in two…some of the staff from the facility…Gale.” She stops, a look of horror spreading on her face.

            “I shouldn’t have told you! This is supposed to be your time to relax. I’m sorry!”

            “Don’t be sorry Delly. It’s fine. It’s better I know.”

            “Right…because now you know not to watch,” she hesitates. “Peeta, you have to promise me you won’t watch.” I give her a small smile.

            “I promise not to watch,” I lie. She nods seemingly content. With a few more hugs, kisses, apologizes and false promises on my part, she departs. I make my way heavily upstairs, to find Katniss, still undressed and looking very annoyed.

            “Well? Are we _ever_ going to get there?” she demands, arms folded across her chest. I collapse on the bed next to her, stomach pressed to the mattress, turning my head to look at her.

            “I honestly don’t know,” I tell my wife dejectedly. She furrows her brow in confusion, unaware that we are talking about two completely different things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Consider this my gift to all of you! It's an extra update if you will, just because I liked this chapter and lots of people left reviews when I posted the last update, which was somewhat of a flat chapter. I hope you all liked it, and that the opening wasn't too much. I tried to keep it toned down because of the story's rating. I also hope that ending line was clear. I worry it isn't clear what Peeta is talking about. Let me know your thoughts.


	40. Chapter 40: Agenda

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings: Description of chronic feelings of anxiety.

Katniss is sitting on the couch next to me a few hours later, one hand resting on her protruding stomach, while she furiously bites the nails on her other hand. I’m leaning forward. My own fingers have been hovering over the remote, waiting to turn the television on for a few moments. I can feel Katniss eyes boring into my hands. I glance at the blank screen. She stays silent behind me. I turn to look at her hoping to gleam some insight into what she thinks about the subject. Her face is blank.

            “I need to know,” I tell her desperately.

            “Why?” she asks softly. “What good will it do you? Me? Us?” I pause, thinking it over.

            “Everything that has happened before…we’ve always had an enemy. Someone who we know is the one who’s been hurting us. This is no different. When this is over, we’ll know. If it’s Gale than so be it, but I don’t want us falsely blaming people. I need to know who our real enemy is.” She hisses at my use of words, but does not protest. I press the power button the remote, and the television flicks to live. Caesar Flickerman is on screen, looking deeply disturbed.

            “The drama surround the news of the Star Crossed Lover’s pregnancy continues, as it was revealed a few days after the news leaked, that the information about Katniss’ Everdean, excuse me, Mellark’s pregnancy was confidential information. Only a few privileged individuals were aware of the Mockingjay’s state, and all were sworn to secrecy out of familial obligation or maintaining professional confidentiality. Someone in our country broke that vow, hurting the person who has possibly helped us the most, in the process. Tonight, we seek justice!”

            “Funny,” Katniss whispers. “He wasn’t exactly a fan of mine during the rebellion, before we won, at least.”

            “He’s like Plutarch. He sings the tunes of the ones in power, and the ones in power love their Mockingjay.”

            “As a figure head,” she corrects me. “They have never been wild about me as a person, especially not if I have my own agenda.”

            “What is your agenda?” I ask curious, as dramatic music begins to blare from the speakers and a series of names flash across the screen. I spot Plutarch’s and assume this is a list of higher ups bringing us this special program.

            “Tonight or just in general?”

            “Both?”

            “Tonight, my agenda is to make you happy and to keep you from completely losing it when you see that Gale is behind the leak. In general my goal is survive this pregnancy.” Her voice drops as she utters the second sentence. I turn to make eye contact with her, extending my hand.

            “How are you feeling about the baby? I’m sorry. I should ask that question more often. I’ve just been…”

            “Caught up?” she finishes the sentence for me. I nod. “Don’t worry about it, not asking I mean. As far as how I’m doing…there’s this constant feeling of anxiety in my chest. My heart feels hollow and heavy all at once.”

            “I wish there was something I could do.” I tell her sadly. “Something I could help with to make you feel more secure.” She shakes her head, slowly.

            “I don’t think there’s anything anyone can do…she just needs to come. It’ll feel safer when she’s not just depending on me…I’m so unreliable.”

            “Don’t talk about it like that. You can’t get better and come to terms with yourself if you’re always casting yourself in a negative light. It’s not that you’re unreliable…you just have challenges.” She smiles, for an instant, as the names stop flashing and Caesar reappears.

            “First we will be speaking with the head of security at the facility where Katniss and Peeta Mellark were staying. So please welcome former Peacekeeper in District 12 Purnia!” There is an instant smattering of polite applause from Caesar’s live audience, and Katniss gasps beside me.

            “I did not know Purnia was Aurelius’ head of security. I would have said hello or spoken with her. I haven’t seen her since Gale’s…” she trails off with a slight shudder at the memory of Gale and Darius’ fate that day.

            “Now Purnia,” Caesar begins. “You know the Mellarks personally don’t you from your time acting as peacekeeper in District 12?”

            “Katniss more than Peeta,” Purnia answers. “Which isn’t surprising, Peeta was a merchant’s son, kept himself clean, never got involved in anything…frowned upon.”

            “But Katniss did?” Caesar asks. He looks genuinely curious. “I’m shocked. When she was younger, before the Quarter Quell, she always struck me as being very mild tempered and sweet.”

            “I’m shocked that you’re shocked that someone who grew up to instigate a rebellion engaged in rule breaking while she was younger. I never knew that girl to abide by any regulation, if she felt breaking it would keep her and the people she loved alive.” Caesar let’s out a chuckle.

            “Now that sounds like our Mockingjay...so. How did you feel when you discovered that your facility was treating the two Victors, given your history with them?”

            “I honestly didn’t know till the news broke on public media. Aurelius informed me we had a high profile patient coming in, but he did not give me their name. Since I was not involved in treating her it would have been a breach of confidentiality to tell me her identity. I have never been informed of the names or personal information of any patients unless they are flight risks. Upon the arrival of the Mockingjay, I was simply ordered, that under no circumstances were unauthorized personnel permitted on the premises. We had issues in the past with a high profile patient’s whereabouts being released, when I friend arrived to pick up a nurse and spotted her.”

            “Yes I remember when Annie Cresta was put through that horrible ordeal. The poor dear has been through enough. It was a shame she was not allowed to heal in peace.”

            “Which is exactly what we did not want to happen again in this case. I was given explicit instructions that my people where not allowed to permit anyone to enter the grounds without the proper papers and identification, and absolutely no press. We succeeded at this until the news broke about the pregnancy, at which point my forces were overwhelmed.”

            “And that is when you found out Katniss Mellark, was being treated at the facility.”

            “Correct.”

            “And I understand you conducted your own investigation with the staff, to determine if any of them talked to the press.”

            “I found no indication of an employee being the leak. My findings were confirmed by a governmental agency as well. No one within the facility talked to the media.”

            “Which makes senses, considering reports first began circulating in District 2. Did anyone from District Two enter the facility in the months before the news leaked?”

            “Yes,” Purnia says, frowning deeply. “A commander Gale Hawthorne, head peacekeeper of district two was granted access.”

            “This being the same Gale Hawthorne who resided in District 12 and fought in the war along side the Mockingjay. Katniss’ cousin if I’m not mistaken?”

            “Gale lived in District 12, but he and Katniss had no blood relation that I’m aware of. I thought for the longest time, before she was reaped, that Katniss was going to marry Gale. They were always together.” My heart constricts, and Katniss lets out an indistinct sigh.  

            “Interesting…”Caesar says. “She never mentioned him in interviews or in conversations with Peeta during the games after he declared his love.”

            “Well of course she wouldn’t have,” Purnia says dismissively. “At least not on camera. The fact that they were so in love helped them survive in those games. Katniss wouldn’t have complicated things by brining up Gale, besides she never seemed to reciprocate the boy’s feelings. Anyone could tell she cared for him, but it never struck me as being enough for Gale. After the games it all got much more complicated, and they never seemed to be on the same page again.”

            “A jealous lover!” Caesar cries, excitedly. “Better yet…a jealous _jilted_ lover! My, what a motive it seems Commander Gale Hawthorne had to leak the news. Do you know how is visit went?”

            “He was only authorized to visit the facility under the condition that he was assessing for possible escape routes the patient could take. President Paylor informed Aurelius and my office he was within his rights to do so, since the patient we were treating was supposed to be confined to a District as a security threat. She was very clear though, that he was to have no contact with any patients, since that would breach confidentiality. There was little my office could do to enforce this though, since he was a Peacekeeper and was doing an independent assessment of the security. Regulations state he could not be escorted by one of my people in order to keep his report unbiased.”

            “So you do not know if he had contact with the girl on fire?”

            “I cannot confirm or attest to anything that happened during his visit. However he left of his own free will, meaning he was not thrown out by a doctor.”

            “Well that I believe is all we have time for with this witness! Thank you for your participation former peacekeeper Purnia! Stay tuned for more interviews with the reporter who initially broke the story in two!” The screen cuts to commercials. Since nothing is mandatory viewing anymore, programming has needed to resort to showing more advertisements now that the government is not paying for the airtime. Katniss is frowning deeply, staring intently at an ad for some kind of skin cream. I don’t speak either. A strong feeling of uneasy and queasiness is settling in my stomach. I don’t like how Purnia cast the early days of our relationship. It was never something I was eager for the rest of the country to hear about.

            “I’d never have married Gale,” Katniss snaps after a moment’s silence. I can’t help but chuckle.

            “That’s what your upset about being revealed in that interview?”

            “What else is there? It was all true for once.”

            “She basically told everyone our romance during the games was a farce,” I point out, indignantly.

            “But it was. I thought she represented all of it accurately. It was a strategy that became a reality.”

            “She didn’t emphasize the becoming a reality part,” I grumble. “She just talked about how it complicated things with Gale.”

            “Which is all she knew about. She was gone by the time things became real.” My wife pauses, glancing sideways at me. “Is there a reason it’s so important to you?” she asks cautiously. I take a moment before I answer.

            “I don’t want anyone doubting that this is real,” I tell her meekly.

            “Anyone or you?” I don’t answer. “Peeta, if you know it’s real than it doesn’t matter what everyone else thinks. All that matters in this relationship is you and me. Not Panem. It doesn’t matter what they think of us anymore.” She pauses. “It’s okay if you have to ask though.”

            “You love me. Real or not real?” I whisper.

            “Real,” she says firmly, kissing my temple. “And I don’t want you to ever hesitate if you need to ask that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is a few days late, but I gave you an extra update last week so...I'm not sorry.   
> Yay for cute Peeta and Katniss moments! Boo for the Capital basically treating this whole thing as a Hunger Games fix! I hope you like this chapter. It's one that I wrote more recently, once inspiration finally returned! And I'm super excited about how the rest of Plutarch's investigation is going to go! Please leave a comment!


	41. Chapter 41: Yet He Always Will

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings: Mention of self harm

“We are back ladies and gentleman! And our next witness in the investigation into the violation of Katniss Everdean’s rights as a patient, is the reporter from two who first published the news. I give you ladies and gentlemen Phillies Gorld.” The audience makes several hissing noises as Gorld takes the stage. He looks younger than I thought. He must be around our age. Katniss is squinting at the screen, eyes furrowed in concentration. I always forget she spent time in two while I was hijacked. I’m about to ask if she recognizes him, when Caesar begins his line of questioning.

            “Mr. Gorld, you first broke the news of the Mockingjay’s pregnancy about a month or so ago on a weekday morning. Correct?”

            “Yes that’s true. I had been up all night writing that article and preparing our head anchor for broadcast.”

            “I see and where did you locate the information regarding our expectant Girl on Fire and her mental state.”

            “I received an anonymous phone call,” he says vaguely, casting his eyes to the side. Caesar purses his lips.

            “I’m sorry Mr. Gorld. You expect me to believe that you accepted an anonymous phone call as a reputable source for breaking the biggest story of the year.” Gorld smiles.

            “Look Caesar, I’m not going to sit her and listen to this or take this. I’m only here because I’m legally mandated to participate in this investigation. The reality of that matter is that I received valid information from a credible source, who provided me with evidence to confirm their claim. I did nothing wrong, and I refuse to name my source. It would be unethical of me to do so as a journalist.” Caesar shakes his head, voice rising.

            “You published medically confidential information! You don’t see that as doing anything wrong?”

            “Oh well that’s rich coming from you!” Gorld retorts, voice also rising.

            “And what is that supposed to mean!” Flickerman demands.

            “It means you helped dress children up and lead them to slaughter for years! And you’re sitting there and accusing me of being a bad guy! It’s laughable. This whole thing is a joke!”

            “You dragged our poor Mockingjay into the lime light when she was recovering from a terrible shock.”

            “That’s not as bad as throwing her in an arena…twice, and then sticking her in front of cameras to spur a rebellion on! That girl has been traumatized and dragged in front of the public while still recovering again and again! The fact of the matter is Caesar, I did nothing you did not do to her and countless other Victors.” Caesar splutters indignantly.

            “As I have previously stated, if I could undo the damage I have done, I would. However, I am not the one on trial. If the actions I took disgusted you so much, than I would think you would want to do better than me. Your broadcasting of the news was as much selling Katniss Everdean, the Girl on Fire, the Victor, the Star Crossed Lover, the Mockingjay, as what the Capitol and District 13 did. If you hate all of us so much, than why are you acting just like us?” There is ringing silence, both in our home and on the television screen. Caesar presses on.

            “What we did was horrible, but as Peeta Mellark himself said we cannot heal by dwelling in the past. I believe his exact words were ‘You heal by going forward and making things better than they used to be and hopefully better than they could have been.’” Caesar pauses for affect. “How were your actions making things better than they have been in the past?” Gorld swallows.

            “I felt that people had a right to know. She stirred up a rebellion. She killed in the Games. She fought in a war. People died because of her.”

            “We are what we are because of her. We have this chance to live and be here because of her, the Victors, the war heroes and the citizens of this country, both dead and alive,” Caesar states, slowly, dramatically. Neither of them speaks for a moment.

            “I cannot confirm the identity of my informant. He never provided me with his name. However he did provide with a taped phone conversation and contacted me using telephone number I traced back to Peace Keeper Headquarters in two,” Gorld says. Caesar sucks in his breath.

            “If my information is correct, the head peace keeper in your district is one, Gale Hawthorne. Viewers will remember that Commander Hawthorne was granted access to visit the facility in the Capitol where Katniss and Peeta were staying. He also had motive to release the news of the pregnancy, since he once had feelings for Katniss that she did not reciprocate.”

            “Gale Hawthorne is head Peace Keeper in two, yes. He can also be heard on the audio recording of a phone call, I received in the mail shortly after I received the anonymous tip.”

            “So Commander Hawthorne and who else are on the call?”

            “Peeta Mellark.” My heart sinks. I talked to Gale on the phone twice, and I know which call they have.

            “Did you bring it with you?” Caesar asks. I can see him shaking with anticipation. Gorld nods and produces a small disk from his jacket pocket. “Can we get this into the speakers please!” There’s a slight lag as a technician comes and retrieves the disk. I can just make out the noises of scrambling workers trying to get technology to work before the recording begins to play.

 _Peeta?_ ” Gale’s voice begins on the recording. “ _It’s been nearly two weeks are you saying it took her that long to recover?_ ” Caesar is sitting with his hands pressed to his mouth. He seems to be carefully considering what he’s hearing.

“ _No she’s fine. Well, fine by comparison. I got sick and couldn’t call._ ” There’s a brief pause. Gale remains silent. “ _Her ear is almost completely healed and she hasn’t tried to hurt herself since. We’ve been trying to keep her moving, exercising. Annie is coming today, which will do Katniss good since Annie’s been through this._ ”

“ _Mrs. Everdean called me last night_ ,” Gale tells me, sounding distressed. “ _She was furious and heart broken and…I don’t know Peeta. They haven’t had a good relationship in years_.”

“ _I’m aware_ ,” recording me responds coolly. “ _Katniss is with Aurelius now talking about it. We’re helping her Gale_.”

“ _What can I do?_ ”

“ _The same thing you’ve been doing for years now, stay away, don’t contact her. It doesn’t help either of you_.”

“ _It shouldn’t matter what helps me_.”

“ _Well it doesn’t help her, and don’t try to pretend that seeing her pregnant didn’t destroy you on the inside. If she’d chosen you and our situations were reversed…_ ” The silence that follows is almost painful.

“ _When I was taken by the Capitol, Katniss was supposed to shot me. She didn’t obviously, but for a split second I thought she was going to. I wondered…what would it feel like to be shot through the chest by an arrow._ ” He inhales deeply. “ _I don’t wonder anymore._ ”

“ _Gale, her seeing you…you seeing her. It doesn’t help either of you. Right now, just talking about her on the phone with me…I can’t imagine this is healthy for you. If it’s making both of you worse, wouldn’t it be best to just…stay away_.”

“ _If our situations were reversed, could you just stay away?_ ” I don’t answer the question, although my breathing is still audible. “ _Call me…when the baby comes or if…if something happens._ ” There’s a click and the recoding shuts off. No one on screen speaks. I can’t look at Katniss.

“He doesn’t have a right to care,” my wife whispers.

“Yet he always will,” I tell her, eyes still fixed on the television as it changes to commercials.

“No he won’t. You heard Gorld, the call came from his place of work, and who else was involved in this phone call and could have gotten that recording. You?” she scoffs annoyed. “You were too kind to him on the call. He doesn’t deserve it.” I don’t answer her. I’ve run out of defenses. It’s starting to look like it had to be Gale. “I should have shot him when he was captured. It was what we agreed we’d do, and now it’s finally coming back to haunt me.”

I jump as the phone rings loudly. Katniss doesn’t move off the couch, so I get up myself and walk over to it, picking it up slowly.

“Hello,” I begin, hesitantly, half expecting reporters, half expecting a drunk Haymitch. I hear the clink of ice in a glass and the sound of swooshing liquid.

“Am I the only one who felt like playing that recording on live television was also a violation of confidentiality?” a drunken voice slurs to me on the other end of the line. I’m not surprised by the inebriation. I’m surprised that the voice doesn’t belong to Haymitch. It belongs to Gale.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GALE CALLED! What does he want? Does he want to confess? Does he want to apologize? Does he want to deny it? Who knows....I do, but you should all tell me what you think.


	42. Chapter 42: Privacy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings: Alcohol as a coping mechanism and acknowledgement that sex exists

I glance at Katniss who is still focused on the television. I step back into the kitchen, closing the door as much as I can with the cord trailing behind me. Flicking on the light switch the room comes to life around me, gleaming and clean. Our dinner is still sitting on the stove waiting to be put away, but aside from that the place is spotless. It feels almost too perfect, and I get a guilty feeling in my gut as Gale continues to babble.

“They’re going to blame me fore it. Who else could have recorded that call? You, but then why would you want all of Katniss’ mental health problems to be public information? It has to be me, because I’m the…what was it?”

“Jealous jilted ex-lover,” I provide.

“Exactly!” he hiccups. It takes me a moment to build up my courage.

“Was it you Gale?”

“Absolutely not,” he declares, putting a lot of emphasis on the last word. He sighs deeply. “I loved that girl, Peeta. I loved her so much, but at the end of the war, she wasn’t that girl anymore. She hadn’t been for a long time, and I hadn’t been letting her be anyone else. You did though. You always let her be who she needed to be. That’s why she choose you. You kept her alive when it was all said and done.”

“Gale,” I say softly, but he cuts me off.

“But just because she changed and it ended badly doesn’t mean I want to hurt her. I will always want what is best for her. It took me a long time to accept that that was you, but I’m not out for revenge. You have to believe me Peeta,” he chokes. “I don’t think anyone else will.” I shake my head dejectedly; glad, for an instant, he can’t see me.

“How did this happen Gale? If it wasn’t you, how did this happen?”

“I don’t know. All calls coming into the station and placed at the station are recorded for legal reasons, in case they’re needed in trials. But you need an access code to get a hold of them.”

“Someone in your office could have gotten the recording is what you’re saying?” I ask. “But there have to be thousands of recordings Gale. It’s a peacekeeper’s office. You get so many calls. It’s hard to believe that some one with an access code just stumbled on that call.”

“They would have needed to know what they were looking for,” he says sounding defeated. “Did you tell anyone you were calling me?”

“I don’t believe so…if I did it would have only been Haymitch or Katniss.” I rub the creases out of my forehead with my thumb, and try to relax the muscles in my shoulders. “Did you tell anyone that I called?”

“No,” Gale says, hopelessly. “Which means whoever did this is someone in my department who just happened to stumble across this recording…no one is going to believe that.”

“I’m not even sure I believe it,” I tell him honestly. There’s a long silence.

“Are you saying it was me.”

“No. I’m saying we have to be missing something. The odds are too slim that someone just happened to find it.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Gale groans. “This isn’t a real trial. They’re not actually seeking justice, unless they trained Caesar Flickerman in the art of interrogation. They’re putting on a show, and every show needs an enemy. I’m going to be vilified. It doesn’t matter if I did it or not.” I can’t argue with him. At this point the people of Panem will hate him simply because he has been associated with complicating the Star Crossed Lover’s perfect romance. They’ll drink up his relationship with Katniss like the good gossip that it is, and he will forever be known as the man who tried to steal her away from me. Accusing him of seeking revenge against us just makes the story even more addicting. I wouldn’t be surprised if at the end of this, Plutarch pinned it all on him, just for the ratings. I taste bile.

“I don’t know what I can do Gale.”

“Hang up the phone. Go back to your pregnant wife, and don’t tell her I called. I shouldn’t have bothered you anyway. You’re right. It’s best if I don’t contact her, and contacting you is dangerous. I should have learned my lesson when she answered the other day. Is she okay?”

“She’s fine. Aloof but more together than she was even a couple of weeks ago.” He lets out a small laugh.

“I’m glad to hear it.” He hesitates again. “I still need you to call me though, when the baby comes. I’d rather hear it from you than the news outlets.”

“If you say so Gale,” I answer. I hear a gulp and the sound of more liquid being poured as the line goes dead. I reenter the living room, hanging the phone up as I come in. Katniss finally turns to look at me.

“Was he drunk?” she asks. I jump staring at her in horror. How did she know?

“Haymitch,” she clarifies, eyes widening in confusion at my reaction. “I’m assuming that was him, since you’d have just hung up if it was a reporter. Was he drunk?”

“Yes, _he_ was drunk,” I put a little emphasis on the word he, but she doesn’t seem to notice. Instead my wife looks back at the TV as Caesar comes on to recap everything we learned so far.

“Be sure to tune in day after tomorrow, Panem. The detectives and producers have informed me that tonight they will be delivering a direct order to Commander Gale Hawthorne to give us an exact account of his actions in the facility and afterwards regarding the expectant Mockingjay!” Dramatic music plays. Katniss rolls her eyes.

“It seems to me that this investigation into the violation of our privacy is just a further violation of our privacy,” she says dully turning off the screen. “It’s ridiculous. This isn’t an investigation. It’s an excuse to relive the excitement people felt after our first games and try to fill that void in entertainment left by the Hunger Games.” I sit down next to her on the couch, Gale’s words echoing in my ears. They think alike. “Was this how my trial went?” she demands of me. I nod glumly, not liking to think about that horrible period. I was convinced they were going to execute her.

“Caesar Flickerman didn’t conduct it though,” I tell her. “He was too busy being on trial himself. I think he only got off because Plutarch intervened. Something about him being very good at interviews and his job.”

“Disgusting. Letting him off because he can make people cry on TV. It suggests that ability is more important than the lives of all the people he helped dress up for slaughter.” I nod.

“Remember our lives before we met Caesar Flickerman?” I ask, suddenly feeling dreamy for the time of my life before I stepped in front of a camera. “That was wonderful.” Katniss furrows her eyebrows at me.

“We constantly had to worry about starving to death. You were hopelessly in love with me, but never found the courage to talk to me. Plus you were living with an abusive mother, who beat you when you stepped out of line.”

“I prefer taking on my mother to taking on Caesar. At least with her I always knew where I stood.”

“Because she hated you!” Katniss says, disgusted. 

            “But it always ended with her. I just needed to grit my teeth and it was over. It’s never over with Caesar Flickerman and his band of merry cameras.”

            “You’re only saying that because your mother is dead now. The obstacle you don’t have to deal with anymore is always preferable to the one that is present.”

            “Possibly. We could kidnap Caesar though and find out for sure. Just abandon him out in the woods to make all the press stop.”

            “That doesn’t sound pleasant. They’d put us back on television to broadcast a live _investigation_.” She half laughs as she says the last word.

            “Oh well if abducting him would just drag us back into that freak show than never mind. It’s not worth it.” She wraps her fingers around mine and squeezes. I look up at her, smiling. She smiles back. I lean in and press my lips to hers in a long lingering kiss. As we break apart, she strokes my cheek with a free finger.

            “Hi,” I whisper. She smiles a little wider.

            “Hi,” she whispers back. I rip my eyes away from her and cast them down towards her stomach. I lean down rubbing both my hands over her belly and laying a big kiss right at the top.

            “And hello to little Willow,” I whisper. I’m rewarded with a soft thud beneath one of my palms. Katniss lets out a sigh of relief. I look up at her, a frown forming on my face. “Are you alright?”

            “Fine,” she answers. The creases on my forehead don’t relax. She scowls. “I’m just relieved that she kicked.”

            “I thought you hated her kicking. It made you panic back in the Capitol.” I don’t take my hands off her stomach, waiting to see if she’ll move again. Katniss brushes back my blond hair and wraps her other arm around my shoulders.

            “I didn’t like it then, but I’ve gotten used to it now. I find it reassuring. It tells me that she’s okay…healthy.” I nod understandingly. Our daughter has stopped moving. I let out a sigh. “I wish she would move more,” Katniss says off handedly.

            “Do you think she doesn’t move enough?” I ask. She shrugs, scowl melting off her face.

            “It’s felt like she isn’t moving as much lately.”

            “Are you worried?” She shrugs again. “You should have mentioned it to Clora the other day at our appointment.”

            “What and have her look at me like I’m insane. She’s still kicking, so obviously she’s okay.” I run my hands over Katniss belly, looking for movement, but all remains still in my wife’s womb. “Relax Peeta. It’s alright. She was kicking a lot actually…earlier…when we were in bed.” For some reason I feel myself blush.

            “She could feel that?”

            “I doubt she knows what it was. She was probably responding to my heart rate and hormones. My mother used to see pregnant woman back in the Seam and she told them sexual activity can make the fetus respond in different ways, depending. Some find it soothing while others kick more. She kicks.” I still don’t remove my hands from her stomach, casting an eye at my wife doubtfully.

            “You’re sure everything’s fine though?”

            “Yes,” she says dismissively. “I want her to kick more because it helps reassure me everything is okay. Didn’t we just see Clora? She said it was okay. This is all coming from my fears and anxieties. There isn’t actually a problem.” I nod slowly. Katniss has always been fairly good at recognizing when she’s being irrational, and she is right. We did just see the OBGYN. I also promised to start trusting her at assessing her own needs more.

            “Okay,” I whisper. She looks at me, resting her head against one of the cushions on the couch.

            “If it would make you feel better, we could go upstairs and try to see if we can make her kick.” There is something seductive in her voice. I smile slyly.

            “For that we’d have to increase your heart rate and hormone production.” She nods slowly. “How do we do that again?” She smacks me playfully on the shoulder, before getting heavily to her feet.

            “Are you coming or what?” I do have to admit; I enjoy having our privacy back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I missed last weeks update for which I apologize. You can tell my break is over. I hope though that this nice long chapter makes up for it.
> 
> I know some people are starting to doubt that it was Gale. Is anyone else feeling like he might not be full of crap? Or does everyone feel that he's just messing with Peeta? I'm actually really excited to hear what everyone thinks, so please tell me!


	43. Chapter 43: Surrounded

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings: Some swearing, Blood, health crisis, emotionally shutting down.

I wake up to the phone ringing again. I’m pressed into Katniss, as we lie in the spare bedroom. One of my arms is draped over her bare top, a hand resting on her belly. She shifts in her sleep. I groan, pressing my forehead into her back. The phone keeps ringing.

            “Don’t get it,” she mumbles sleepily. “It’s just going to be a reporter.”

            “It could be your mother,” I remind her, thinking of the time her mother called early in the day, possibly due to the time difference between twelve and four.

            “In that case you definitely shouldn’t get it.” I kiss her back between her shoulder blades and make a dash for the phone in the other room wearing only my boxer.

            “Hello,” I groggily mumble into the receiver.

            “Don’t go outside.” I balk a little.

            “Haymitch?” I ask drowsily. “Do you have any idea what time it is?”

            “I am aware of what time it is, as are the twenty or so reporters waiting on our lawns.” I sit bolt up right at this.

            “There are reporters outside!” I half scream, getting off the bed and trying to peer out behind the curtains of the master bedroom, without opening them. To my horror I can just see a few figures, dressed in dark clothing moving around on the lawn. “Shit,” I hiss.

            “They’re running my manicured lawn!” Haymitch hollers at me.

            “The geese will be enraged when they see how their stomping ground has been ruined.”

            “I’ll turn those monsters lose on you boy, if you don’t watch it.”

            “What’s the matter with you? Turn them lose on the reporters!”

            “They’re in the pen outside. I’d have to go out there.”

            “So? No one cares about you Haymitch.” He scoffs.

            “You’re an idiot. You think, now that it’s out there that in the Games your relationship with Sweetheart was a strategy, that they won’t have questions for your mentor? Your mentor being the man who was supposed to come up with your strategy.” I don’t answer. “Exactly. Anyone who knew you two way back when is fair game. I was on the phone with Plutarch for twenty minutes last night, trying to convince him to take Effie into protective custody so she wouldn’t be bombarded by the media.”

            “That’s a lot of effort to go through for someone you supposedly hate.”

            “I wasn’t protecting her. I’d just prefer to see her as little as possible. Spotting her on television does not fit into that plan. Now will you shut up and focus. Don’t go outside and call Thom.”

            “I hate calling Thom. He’s a peacekeeper.”

            “He’s a not a peacekeeper. He’s the head peacekeeper of twelve, and he’s friendly to you and Katniss. Call him now and get these damn _things_ off my lawn.”

            “What lawn!” I yell, exasperated into the phone but he’s already hung up. I slam the phone back down on the cradle and go back to check on Katniss. I find her sitting up in bed, brow furrowed, one hand touching her stomach.

            “You won’t believe it. Haymitch says there are about twenty reporters just swarming around outside.” She doesn’t answer. “Katniss? Did you hear me?” I ask confused, suddenly noticing that the hand not on her stomach is at her mouth. She is biting her nails. “What’s the matter?” I ask instantly.

            “Blood,” she whispers. My eyes widen in panic.

            “Where?” I demand, trying to keep my voice calm. She jesters towards the covers, and in an instant, I’ve pulled them off her. She’s right. I can see blood on her panties and a small stain on the bedspread, about the size of a saucer for a teacup. My body feels cold, and I start to sweat. Katniss’ eyes are wide as she takes a more feverish bite at her nails.

            “I’m calling Clora and Birk,” I tell her. “Don’t move!” I rush out of the room, my prosthetic catching on the door, causing me to trip and slam my head into the wall.

            “Peeta!” Katniss hollers behind me, still in bed. I’ve already pushed myself off the wall and am half tripping half running back to the master suite before she’s even finished saying my name. I crash down, so I’m lying across the bed, as the door bounces loudly off the wall behind me. It takes a couple extra seconds for my fumbling fingers to hit the right buttons.

            “District 12 hospital, this is Maureen. How may I direct your call?”

            “I need to speak to either Dr. Birk or Dr. Clora, whoever is available first. It’s urgent.”

            “Oh well Dr. Birk is standing right here. Who may I ask is calling?” Her voice is annoyingly chipper and she’s talking too slow.

            “Peeta Mellark.”

            “One moment please Mr. Mellark,” There an absurdly long pause. I count my heartbeats. Four.

            “Peeta,” Dr. Birk says brightly. “How are you this morning?”

            “Katniss woke up with blood on the sheets.” Silence.

            “How much blood?”

            “I’ve seen larger pools, but…”

            “But you’re a Victor.” He finishes the sentence for me. “Where was it coming from?”

            “It was on her underwear. The stain was about the size of a saucer…you know for a cup of tea.”

            “I understand,” he says. His calm doctor voice feels reassuring. “Any chance it was self inflicted?”

            “No!” I say loudly, firmly. “She was asleep. It started in the night.”

            “Is she in pain?”

            “I don’t know.”

            “Can you bring her in?” I bite my lip.

            “Our house is surrounded by reporters.”

            “I’m calling Thom. Get Haymitch to help you. I’ll probably see you in twenty minutes.” I slam the phone down, and pick it up against instantly, dialing Haymitch’s number.

            “I can’t help but notice that you’re taking your sweet time about calling Thom,” he snaps the second the he answers. My stomach drops, as I remember the last time I demanded he come over and everything that followed.

            “Get over here now. Katniss is bleeding.” I hang up again, before he has a chance to respond. I rub my head, where it hit the wall, as I get back up and return to the spare bedroom. Katniss is still sitting up, making no move to get dressed. Her eyes are fixed on the stain between her legs. Her lips are moving as she speaks softly, but I can’t make out what she’s saying. I open her top draw, grabbing one of her larger nightshirts. I happen to know this one falls down to her knees.

            “You need to get dressed. We’re going to the hospital,” I tell her, pulling on my own pair of pajama bottoms I find discarded on the floor. She doesn’t move, head swaying slightly. I limp to her side and reach out, pulling her legs together and swinging them over the side of the bed. Her upper body shifts a little and I turn her so she’s completely facing me. As I pull the shirt over her head, I make out what she’s saying. 

            “Strange things did happen here. No stranger would it be, if we met at midnight in the hanging tree.” A shiver goes up my spine. I remember a white room and video. Her eyes were dead in that clip, her form frail, like she was wasting away. “Are you? Are you coming to the tree? Where a dead man called out for his love to flee.” I hear a door slam.

            “Peeta!” Haymitch’s raspy voice hits me. “It’s a mad house out there! Thom finally showed up. This had better be good.”

            “We’re in the spare bedroom!” I scream back.

            “Strange things did happen here. No stranger would it be, if we met at midnight in the hanging tree.” She’s louder now. “Are you? Are you coming to the tree? Where I told you to run, so we’d both be free.” Haymitch appears around the corner. His eyes instantly fall on the stained sheets. “Strange things did happen here. No stranger would it be, if we meet at midnight in the hanging tree.” I can hear every aspect of Haymitch raspy breath as his pupils get larger, with visible panic.

            “Get her a coat or something?” I ask him desperately. “She’s got a couple of jackets in the closet. I can’t get her to move.” He seems to fall forward, as he propels himself to the closet door and begins rummaging around.

            “Are you? Are you coming to the tree? Wear a necklace of rope side by side with me. Strange things did happen here. No stranger would it be, if we met a midnight in the hanging tree.” Haymitch joins me in front of Katniss and between the two of us we get her into the jacket, as she starts the song over again.

            “Are you? Are you coming to the tree? Where they strung up a man.”

            “You have to walk, sweetheart,” Haymitch says gently, touching Katniss’ shoulder. Her eyes are blank, head still swaying slightly.

            “They say murdered three,” she half chokes. I take my eyes off her to look at Haymitch.

            “I’ll have to carry her.”

            “Oh the press is going to love that, you carrying your distressed and possibly miscarrying wife to the hospital, as they’re chased off by peacekeepers. It’s all very tragic.”

            “We don’t have a choice Haymitch!” I angrily snap, bending down and hooking an arm under her knees. I hook the other arm around her shoulders and groan as I try to lift her. She’s gotten heavier since I last did this, but finally I find my feet, muscles straining with her weight.

            “Strange things did happen here. No stranger would it be, if we met a midnight in the hanging tree.”

            “I hate that song,” Haymitch grumbles opening doors for me, and holding my shoulder as we make our way down the stairs. At his words Katniss stops singing it. There is chaos the second the door opens. I am blinded for an instant by a flash of a photographer, and the racket finally reaches my ears. Reporters are firing questions at me, but I don’t register what any of them are. They increase in volume and urgency though, as people register that Katniss is in my arms. Thom’s men are struggling to push them back.

            “Thom!” I scream. I see him, standing a few feet away from the door, yelling at his men and waving his arms, indicating he wants them back. He turns at my voice, hair catching in the wind.

            “Birk called,” he yells, crossing the field. “I’ve pulled the car around back. It’d be a nightmare if we tried to walk her there. You alright carrying her?” He asks, casting his eyes on my straining muscles. I nod, out of breath.

            “Where’s the car?” He beckons me around, and Haymitch and I follow him. We loop behind the house, out of sight of a lot of the reporters. I kick myself for not thinking of going out the back of our house. Thom opens the door to the back of the only car District 12 peacekeepers are allowed and I lay Katniss down, her head facing towards the door. It takes some maneuvering, but we finally get the door to close. I take notes of a little bloodstain forming on her nightshirt. I quickly move around the other side of the car, open the door, and slide into the backseat with my wife, lifting her head so it rests in my lap. Haymitch gets into the passenger seat up front, as Thom slides in front of the steering wheel. We take off, whizzing over flowerbeds and looping around the house. Thom hits the gas and soon we’re driving so fast, the reporters blocking the entrance have no choice but to scatter.

            Katniss and I have only ridden together in a car together through the district once. It was right after the first reaping, when we were being taken to the train. I remember feeling like I was being crushed to death under the anxiety, the heart ache, the hopelessness and the impending feeling of doom. This car ride feels the same. Birk and Clora are standing outside the hospital entrance, with an awaiting gurney. Thom takes care to drive up to them, so Katniss’ door is facing the entrance. The second the car is in park, Clora rushes forward and opens the back door. She and Birk begin trying to move Katniss, as gently as possible. Thom, eventually has to lean into the car, and with my help coordinating, manages to lift her out of the backseat. Katniss makes no effort to help us throughout this process. She seems unaware of the fingers pressing into her and the voices gently calling her back to us. I understand how she feels, as I listlessly follow the doctors into the hospital.

            Once we’re safely closed off in an exam room, I notice the ultra sound machine already in place. I become aware of the seat beneath me, although I don’t remember seeing the chair or the act of sitting down. The world feels a little blurry.

            “Katniss,” Clora begins. “Can you hear me? I need you to answer me if you can. I want to help.” I look at my wife, laying on the gurney, her bump protruding into the air. She’s thirty-two weeks pregnant. “Katniss?”    

            “I can hear you.” It’s barely more than a whisper, but I can hear her. I lean forward staring at her intently.

            “Are you in pain?” Clora asks. Katniss shakes her head. “Your husband told Dr. Birk the bleeding started while you slept?” She nods. “You didn’t do anything to hurt yourself last night?” Katniss shakes her head again.  “Have you noticed anything strange or unusual since I last saw you?” Katniss doesn’t answer.

            “She said the baby wasn’t moving as much as she used to,” I provide dully, cutting in. Birk turn to look at me, and Clora shifts her head so she can just see me. “She said that she still was feeling kicks but there wasn’t as much activity.” Clora nods curtly. Birk blocks my view for a moment, as he takes her blood pressure. He pauses looking over the numbers.

            “It’s not high,” he says turning to Clora. “That rules out preeclampsia.” My heart constricts. “She’s not in pain either,” Birk continues. He looks between the two of us. “Now that you two are home have you been more active…sexually?” My bare chest probably tipped him off. I can’t breath. I nod.

            “It could be placenta previa,” Clora says. Birk turns to look at her. “Bleeding with no pain, and the condition can often be aggravated by intercourse.”

            “What do you need to diagnose?” Birk asks. Clora points to the ultrasound machine. “The newer machine that I can use for a more through examination. Tell my assistant.” Birk nods and leaves the room. Clora turns back to my Katniss. “I’m going to have to do a manual examine. Alright?” Katniss nods. “I just need to pull up your night gown. If might feel uncomfortable.” I look around quickly, and upon finding Haymitch isn’t in the room I feel a sense of relief on Katniss’ behalf. Finally finding my feet and I get up, and make my way over to beside the gurney. I grab my pregnant wife’s hand. She catches my fingers in a vice grip. My heart is still pounding and my chest feels hollowed out.

            “Are you saying that…I hurt her in some way last night?” I ask, voice breaking a little. Clora looks up from her examination.

            “No Peeta,” she says kindly, voice softening a little. “This isn’t your fault. Sex during pregnancy is perfectly safe.” She pauses looking at me and then at Katniss. My wife’s eyes are wide with fear.

“I’m losing her aren’t I?” Katniss chokes. Her chest is rising and falling rapidly as she stares at the doctor, muscles tense. The choking sound doesn’t stop.

“It’s too early for me to say definitively, but I don’t think you’re loosing the fetus or going into premature labor. You’re here now, and we’re going to do everything we can. Just breath.” As Clora finishes speaking, Birk returns with a different ultra sound machine. This one has a more menacing looking wand. I don’t care what Clora says, there is no way I can possibly feel calm right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright I just want to say, that I read online that sometimes that with certain conditions they catch in the second or third trimester, that the baby kicks less, but this is not a definite thing. So if you're reading this and you happen to be pregnant, don't become paranoid. My medical knowledge comes from the internet. 
> 
> On that note, this is one of the creepier chapters in the story, so thanks to Susan Collins for writing the Hanging Tree and making that possible. I hope you all liked this chapter, and are on the edge of your seats waiting for more. We'll get an update on Gale and Katniss' condition soon. Please leave a comment!


	44. Chapter 44: Do it for Willow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: Mention of blood and annoying media

Two hours later, we’re back in the more permanent living section of the hospital. While technically in the mental health section of the hospital, the staff felt we would be more comfortable somewhere familiar. It’s the same room we occupied before Katniss was transferred to the Capitol. After a very thorough examination, Clora declared that Katniss is not losing the baby. She diagnosed her with something called placenta previa. Apparently it’s a condition caused by the placenta attaching itself to the cervix. Clora claims she did not originally check for it, because it’s more common in women with uterine scarring. I suspect that Katniss might have scarring from the fire in the square or from one of the many surgeries we were subjected to in Capitol or in 13 or possibly even from the time she was shot. However I’m too drained to push the subject. Besides, it doesn’t matter to me how it happened. All that’s important is that it’s happening.

            Katniss hasn’t spoken since she asked if she was losing Willow. She watched Clora carefully as she diagnosed the cause of the bleeding and explained what was happening and next steps. However her eyes have been glazed over ever since. She asks no questions and sits listlessly in her bed. We couldn’t even get her to drink anything, until Birk threatened her with an IV. The subject of food hasn’t come up yet, but I’m emotionally preparing myself for that battle. I’m sitting in a chair beside her bed, as Haymitch lounges on the same couch I slept on during the early days of the pregnancy. The TV is on and flashing replays of me, carrying a clearly catatonic Katniss out of our home.

            “Tragic incident today in District 12, as reporters gathered in Victor’s Village seeking a comment from Peeta and Katniss Mellark, regarding the ongoing investigation, when a medical emergency occurred. Peeta Mellark was seen carrying a thirty two weeks pregnant Katniss from their home. She was rushed to the hospital by head peacekeeper Thom, with Victor of second Quarter Quell, Haymitch Abernathy, in tow. Neither of the Mellarks, Thom, or Abernathy has been reachable for a comment. However the hospital did release a statement that Mrs. Katniss Mellark, former Mockingjay, is stable and awake. She will be remaining in the hospital for further observation. The nature of her injuries is unknown.” I want to punch the announcer in the face. He’s making assumptions just like the rest of them. Thom and his men have been trying to force those reporters onto trains all day, but because of the frenzy they’ve started, I can feel in my bones that more will be arriving.

            “I should have taken you out the back,” I grumble to Katniss, kicking myself. She doesn’t respond.

            “Yes you should have used your ability to see into the future to magically know Thom had puled the car around to the back door instead of the front. How long are we staying again?” Haymitch calls from the couch, changing the subject.

            “You can go home if you like, although I don’t recommend it. Birk told me the outside of the hospital is swarmed with reporters.”

            “I’m not going anywhere. You know that’s not what I was asking.”

            “I know.” I glance at Katniss, hoping maybe she’ll answer his question. She doesn’t make a move to speak, so I say it for her. “They want to keep Katniss here till the bleeding stops. Since it’s a little on the heavy side, they’re worried about premature labor or a possible blood transfusion.”

            “And when it stops?”

            “Bed rest, and delivery by C-Section,” I answer. He sucks in his breath. Katniss lets out a choking sound. I catch her eyes. “It’s all okay now,” I begin, for what might be the hundredth time in our marriage. “The Capitol is gone. Snow is dead. Coin is dead. Your mother is safe. Haymitch is safe. I am safe, and Prim is somewhere no one can hurt her ever again.” I take a deep breath. “Our daughter is alive and well inside you. She is safe too. You aren’t going to lose her.” I reach out, and Katniss takes my hand. She still doesn’t speak.

            “I think it’s time to call Aurelius,” Haymitch whispers. His eyes are fixed on Katniss, lips turned down slightly, forehead furrowed. I nod squeezing her hand before leaving my chair to go to the nurses’ station. Upon seeing me the woman turns the phone on her desk and pushes it towards me. I notice her staring as I dial, and take a step back, turning to face the other direction as it rings.

            “Hello?” Aurelius answers on the second ring.

            “It’s Peeta.” I hear a deep sigh.

            “What happened? Did she relapse?”

            “It’s medical problem this time. She didn’t do anything to herself.”

            “Medical problem?”

            “She has something called placenta previa. Her placenta attached partially to her cervix, which causes bleeding. She’s at risk of bleeding out if she delivers the baby…traditionally.”

            “So they want to do a C-section? That’s good. I always thought that would be easiest on her emotionally.”

            “She’s not talking,” I tell him. I can see Katniss through the window into her hospital room. She’s staring dully at the television as Haymitch flicks the channels.

            “Is she in pain?”

            “I don’t think so.”

            “Do you want me to come?” I hesitate.

            “They’re implying in reports that she hurt herself. If you show up that would only confirm things.”

            “All due respect Peeta, I don’t think you should concern yourself with what the media is saying. There are more important things going on than what they say about her on the news. You need to think about your needs too. If you’re feeling overwhelmed you might need me there as much as Katniss.” I close my eyes and exhale all the air out of my lungs.

            “Come.”

            “I’ll be on the train tonight. Get some rest, and make sure to ask the doctor’s about the medication I prescribe her. All of this might get a lot worse if she stops taking it.”

            “See you soon then.”

            “Goodbye Peeta.” There’s a click as he hangs up. I turn back to the nurse and return the phone to the cradle. She still hasn’t taken her eyes off me. It sends a shiver down my spine.

            Just as my fingers are leaving the plastic of the receiver, I’m struck by an idea. I look up at the nurse, who jumps.

            “Do you mind if I use it to place one more call.” She shakes her head, mouth open a little. “Thanks.” I pull it closer to me, and dial information.

            “District 4 please. I need a listing for an Everdean.”

            “One moment please.” I hear typing in the background as the receptionist searches. “I have only one Everdean listed in that district, a healer, widower.”

            “That’s her.”

            “Wait one moment sir, while I connect you.” The phone starts ringing after a little bit more typing. The receptionist is gone now. My heart hammers harder with each ring, till finally, just when I think she’s not home, my mother in law answers.

            “Hello.”

            “Mrs. Everdean, it’s Peeta.”

            “Peeta!” she sounds both relieved and horrified. “What happened? Where are you? Is she okay?”

            “We’re in the hospital in twelve. Katniss woke up this morning and there were blood on the sheets. They’re saying she has something called placenta previa.”

            “That’s not terrible,” Mrs. Everdean tells me quickly. “I mean it’s not good, but if she’s receiving treatment, she won’t hemorrhage or lose the baby. She’ll be fine.”

            “I know. She’s just not talking right now.” I hear Mrs. Everdean sigh. “I think you should come,” I tell her firmly. Neither of us speaks for at least a minute.

            “Peeta…I don’t know if I can.”

            “You have to. Your pregnant daughter is in the hospital, and she’s nervous and scared. I understand coming here is difficult for you Mrs. Everdean, but I don’t care anymore. Yes, you lost a daughter, but the fact of the matter is you still have one who is alive. You’re also about to have a granddaughter. The two of them can’t be anywhere but here, so I think you need to come. If you don’t come…she’s never going to forgive you.”

            “What makes you say that?” she asks, voice rising a little.

            “You let her down after her father died, and you let her down after Prim died. The most emotionally trying moments of her life, you have not been there for her. Now she’s hospitalized for complications during a pregnancy. She’s convinced she’s miscarrying no matter what I say, and if you aren’t there for her again…she wants you here. I can tell.”

            “Is that why she didn’t tell me you two got married and were having a baby?” my mother in law snaps.

            “Look, Katniss has always been independent, but you should have seen the way she reacted after you two last talked. And if you don’t want to do it for her because you’re mad at her, then do it for Willow.”

            “Who is Willow?”

            “That’s the name. That’s your granddaughter.” Silence. It stretches on for one minute.... two minutes.

            “I’ll get on the next train.”

            “Wonderful. We’ll see you soon.” I hang up the phone before she has a chance to say goodbye. Conflicting emotions arise inside me. I’m happy my mother in law is coming, but I’m also furious with her for making me beg.

***

            Later that night, Haymitch snores peacefully. He can’t make it past the sea of reporters. Everyone inside the hospital is effectively trapped. The whole thing seems like a safety hazard to me. If there were a fire I find it doubtful everyone could make it out, and if someone in town has a medical emergency, I find it doubtful they could make it in. Katniss is still away awake though. She’s sitting in bed, a tray of mostly uneaten food in front of her. I managed to get her to take a few bites of the meat and sides. She’s staring intently at her left hand. I look away from the muted television to see her thumb reaching across her palm to rub the base of her ring finger. I smile.

            “I’ve got it,” I whisper. She looks up at me. “They took it off, at some point, while they were doing the examination.” I reach into my pocket and pull out her wedding ring. It’s a simply silver band. I had the local jeweler inlay it with a pearl and engrave it with “Always.” She stretches out her left hand across her body towards me. I take it and slip the ring back on her. She grasps my hand before I can pull it back and leans towards me. I meet her halfway, and we press our foreheads together. I rub my thumb along her finger, shifting the ring I’ve just placed there…the ring I placed there for the first time nearly five years ago. “I will always be here,” I whisper, using the same words I did on the night of our toasting. “After everything that has happened, I do not believe there is anything that we can’t survive. You are the most real thing in the world to me and I love you. I will always love you.” She smiles.

            “You make me want to have another toasting.” Her voice floods my veins like a drug, with relief and a sense of calm and peace.

            “I’d have a thousand toastings with you,” I whisper.

            “I’d allow that.” I smile, genuinely for the first time since that morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that this has helped everyone get over that emotional last chapter. I know that was hard to read, and it was also probably hard to wait for more. I hope that last scene made up for it. Also let's all celebrate the fact that Peeta finally got sick of Mrs. Everdean and Katniss being stupid. Yay Peeta! 
> 
> Again I'm just going to stress that all medical information, I got from the internet, so do not consider that to be the end all be all when it comes to procedures.


	45. Chapter 45: Never Become Famous

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings: Mention of self harm

“Mr. Mellark!” the nurse who sits by the phone says as she pushes her way through the door without knocking. “Oh my goodness where you sleeping? I’m sorry.” I start at the sound of her voice, which causes Katniss to wake up, since I was sleeping behind her, with her legs resting between mine and her back pressed to my front. It’s the same way we slept, in this bed, the night I decided we were keeping Willow, and it seemed like a comforting position to sleep in again. Haymitch jumps violently falling off the couch in the process.

            “What’s the matter with you.” he snaps at her, causing her to start. I didn’t notice yesterday, but she can’t be older than eighteen. “Could you not see through that window there,” he hoarsely continues, point at the window looking into the room, “that we _were_ sleeping.”

            “Haymitch,” I groggily begin. “I closed the blinds to that window last night.” He falters.

            “Then how is it so ungodly bright in here?”

            “You’re hungover,” Katniss moans sleepily, turning her head and nuzzling into my shirt more.

            “Look at that. Our Mockingjay has found her voice. I didn’t know you had it in your sweetheart.” He begins lifting himself up in an attempt to get back on the couch.

            “I’m about to find my bow and arrows too, Haymitch.”

            “Excuse me,” the nurse cuts in. “I didn’t mean to wake you…it’s just there’s a very important phone call for Mr. Mellark.” Haymitch begins to answer, finally having made his way back onto the couch.

            “Tell the reporters they can all go f-”

            “I’m sorry!” I cut across him loudly. “Who is on the phone?” Haymitch grumbles annoyed, turning towards the couch cushions away from the door and the light.

            “Paylor,” the nurse responds, glancing at Haymitch nervously.

            “Paylor…” I echo blankly. Do I know a Paylor?

            “Yes, Paylor,” she repeats.

            “Paylor?”

            “The president Peeta,” Katniss says, exasperatedly, pushing herself up a little so I can get out from under her.

            “And Joanna calls Katniss brainless,” Haymitch chortles, turning his head back to face the room momentarily. He instantly scrunches up his eyes, whipping his head around like he’s been burned. “Can we close the blinds?” he half cries.

            “Go back to sleep,” I tell him heavily, maneuvering my prosthetic off the bed, and kissing Katniss on the forehead before I leave. I pick up the phone sitting on the poor girl’s desk and she hurries around looking nervous.

            “President Paylor,” I begin, stifling a yawn. “Good morning.”

            “Did I wake you?” She sounds brisk.

            “Not you personally.”

            “Sorry it couldn’t wait. What’s going on up there?”

            “We’re stuck in a mad mass of reporters. There’s no going in or out.” 

            “I’m aware of that,” she says, frustrated. “I’ve spoken to your head peacekeeper. We’re sending in reinforcements to help contain this. Anyone with a press pass will be banned from District 12. They’ll be cleared sometime tomorrow I wasn’t asking about the reporters.”

            “I’m sorry,” I tell her, feeling more confused by the minute. “What were you asking about?”

            “Katniss. I was asking about your wife.”

            “She’s…on bed rest and being monitored.”          

            “Self infliction?”

            “Placenta previa.”

            “Oh,” she sounds surprised. “I assumed she had relapsed mentally.”

            “You and the rest of the world,” I snap.

            “I apologize. I was simply going off her history an the fact that I spoke to Aurelius this morning and he said he was coming up to 12.”

            “That’s preventative for both her and me.”

            “Good call. May I have Plutarch release that news? It might help get reporters to stop pressing their noses against the hospital windows.”

“That’s fine,” I groan.

“Excellent. I wanted to check in with you before the airing of the investigation tonight.”

            “That’s not an investigation President, with all due respect. It’s a television program.”

            “It gets the job done.” She sounds terse.

            “It’s Caesar Flickerman’s show. Those aren’t interrogations. Those are interviews. I can recognize interviews with Caesar. I’ve been through a few myself.”

            “If you insist on viewing it that way,” she continues aloofly. “His next guest will be Commander Hawthorne. It will be airing tonight.”

            “I was aware.”

            “You should also be aware that we are anticipating an influx of press. It is best if you and your wife, and probably Mr. Abernathy remain in the hospital.”

            “Katniss will still be under observation. That won’t be a problem.”

            “Excellent.”

            “Additionally I wanted to let you know that we plan on stripping Commander Hawthorne of his position and putting him on trial for abuse of power and leaking of confidential information resulting in emotional damage.”

            “That’s premature of you. You’re not even sure he did it.”

            “All current evidence indicates his guilt. Tonight is a formality.”

            “A formality you need to go through, because you’ve got the wrong guy. I’ve spoken to him. He didn’t do it.”

            “I understand it is difficult for you to accept the betrayal of someone who was once considered a comrade in battle. You’ll see tonight, and Aurelius will be there to help you come to terms with things. Additionally, you should consider preventing Katniss from watching. I have heard she was closer with him, and the news that he has hurt her might cause her to relapse.”

            “Trust me, Katniss believes whole heartedly it was Gale, and she blames him for much more than the leak. Don’t worry about this upsetting her.”

            “Then you best prepare yourself for admitting your wife was right, Peeta. We’ll speak again soon. Congratulations on the baby, and I hope Katniss’ recovery is swift.”

            “Thank you.” There’s a harsh click and the line goes dead. I hand the phone to the nurse, whose hand is outstretched for it. She hangs up, smiling nervously at me. I feel a deep sense of pity for her. “Never become famous,” I tell her dully. Her smile falters. I leave her at her station and walk across the hall back to Katniss’ room. As I open the door the couch become illuminated.

            “Light!” Haymitch hoarsely yells.

            “Does it burn, Haymitch?” my wife asks, sarcastically.

            “Should let you burn…girl on fire.” Thankfully Katniss doesn’t respond, as I softly close the door. She’s rolled onto her side, leaving half the bed empty. I maneuver myself back under the covers, and drape a hand over her belly. A soft kick responds to the jostling. Katniss hums a little, contentedly.

            “She likes you,” she mummers softly.

            “A daddy’s girl?” Katniss makes an affirmative noise.

            “Too loud,” our old mentor huffs.

            “I wonder how Haymitch is going to react to the news that we have to stay here another twenty four hours because they can’t clear reporters.”

            “Does this place have a bar?” Katniss asks. I can almost hear her grinning.

            “No!” Haymitch snaps.

            “Oh, well then he probably won’t take it well,” she answers me.

***

            “Did Thom stop by?” Haymitch demands of me, as I come back in from talking in depth with Dr. Birk about my panic attack the other day.

            “He did not.” My mentor’s eyes widen, and I notice a shaking in his hands. His nose looks red, his eyes deep and hollow.

            “Why?” Katniss asks, suspiciously, flipping a page in the newspaper Clora lent her.

            “I offered him one of the geese if he would bring me a bottle of liquor.” I hesitate.

            “Braving that mob isn’t worth one of your geese,” I inform him. We’ve been sitting her for most of the day, alternating between napping, watching television, and taking turns reading the newspaper. Every now and then I’ve gotten a phone call from Aurelius checking in. The train is delayed due to a temporary embargo on traveling to 12. I already phoned Thom and asked him to try to find a way to get Aurelius and Mrs. Everdeen through. He promised to do his best, but I’m not expecting either of them to make it today. I’m honestly half expecting Mrs. Everdeen not make it at all, which probably why I haven’t told Katniss I called her. I don’t want her to be disappointed again.

            “So,” Katniss begins, closing the newspaper. “What time are they airing this invasion of privacy?”

            “It starts in ten minutes,” I respond, trying to sound nonchalant. Katniss makes a strange no committal noise in the back of her throat. “Were you planning on watching it?”

            “It seems as good a way as any to break up the monotony.”

            “I disagree,” I tell her calmly. “It seems like a good way to push you emotionally.”

            “I’m with the Mockingjay,” Haymitch cuts in. I flinch remembering the voting after the war, at his words. “If they’re going to be firing questions at us about something, we need to know what it’s about.”

            “I’m going to be overruled,” I tell them calmly. “So fine, turn on the TV.” Haymitch gratefully hits a button on the remote and the screen comes to life. Capitol Wealth is on. It’s the end of an episode I’ve seen before.

            “Look.” Katniss says, pointing. “It’s what’s her face from that show you like.”

            “Gwen,” I repeat exasperated.

            “Right…what happens in this episode.”

            “What like I’ve seen all the episodes of Capital Wealth?” My wife and mentor both give me sympathetic yet knowing looks. I sigh. “This is the one where Gwen’s best friend, Ruby, tries to seduce Gwen’s father to steal Gwen’s inheritance.”

            “That sounds like one of Finnick’s secrets,” Haymitch responds. “Are we sure those were real and that he wasn’t just summarizing a soap opera for us.”

            “They were real,” my wife answers. She’s trailing a hand over her bump. While she used to never touch it, I’ve noticed since this diagnosis, she almost constantly has a firm grip on it, as though she’s trying to keep it in place. “Not that it matters anymore,” she adds darkly. I shiver. Capital Wealth’s credits begin to roll. Katniss takes a deep steadying breath. I reach out from my chair beside her bed and take her hand, giving it a light squeeze, which she returns. The dramatic music plays and the names flash across the screen, before Caesar Flickerman’s face dominates the screen.

            “Welcome back, Panem, Districts and Capitol alike. Tonight we continue the investigation into the leak about Katniss Everdean’s pregnancy. However first I have been given permission to begin with an update about the Girl on Fire’s condition. Her recent hospitalization has not been caused by a problem with her mental health, and she did not harm herself in anyway. Doctors have diagnosed her with a condition called placenta previa, which is when the placenta attaches to the cervix and can cause anywhere from light to heavy bleeding. The Mockingjay is being monitored, but she is still expected carry the pregnancy to term and deliver a brand new bouncing girl on fire for Panem to adore.” Katniss’ other hand grips her stomach, protectively.

            “Now,” Caesar continues. “Tonight we have the much anticipated integration of Head Peacekeeper of District 2, former ally and friend of Katniss Everdean, Commander Gale Hawthorne.” Boos echo from the studio audience as Gale stumbles onto stage, almost like he’s been pushed. He regains his composure quickly and begins walking, forcefully, towards Caesar. Their handshake is brief, and I detect infinite coldness, as Caesar directs Gale to sit.

            “Commander,” Caesar begins. “It is widely believed that you are responsible for leaking the information regarding the expectant mother to the press.”

            “I’m aware.” Gale is sitting upright. He’s almost ridged, defensive, and his voice sounds very terse.

            “What do you have to say about that?”

            “Does it matter what I say? You and the rest of Panem are ready to lock me up on nothing but circumstantial evidence.”

            “So you’re saying you didn’t do it?” Katniss snorts.

            “I did not do it, but I’m going to be punished for it anyway.”

            “You call our evidence circumstantial. Yet we know that you have the motive, you had the knowledge, reports began circulating from your district, and those reports began because of a phone call that was traced to your place of employment.”

            “Circumstantial. There is no evidence stating that it had to be me.”

            “Commander Hawthorne, you don’t honestly expect me to believe you,” Caesar says, voice rising. “No one else was in the position to leak that information.”

            “There was the recording of the phone call Peeta placed to me.”

            “A recording which you made!”

            “All phone calls placed to peacekeepers are recorded for legal reasons! Anyone with the appropriate access code could have discovered that recording.”

            “You’re saying someone in your office just happened to stumble across a recorded phone call of you Mr. Mellark discussing his wife’s pregnancy? I’m sorry Commander, but you’re reaching! You accessed the recording and sent it to the press, and your cover story is very far fetched.”

            “It’s not a cover story. It’s the truth, but go head. Don’t believe me. I didn’t expect you to.” He crosses his arms, and slumps down in his chair.

            “You’re acting very put upon Commander Hawthorne, as though you did nothing wrong, which I am sorry is not justified. Even if I believed your story about how the recording became public knowledge, there is still your visit to the facility to attend with.” Gale stiffens.

            “That is a confidential matter, involving an investigation.”

            “An investigation you conducted involving the Mockingjay. Several witness at Aurelius’ facility have tipped us off in the past 48 hours that not everything was above board with that investigation.” Gale doesn’t answer, staring pointedly at the ground. “Let’s be honest for once Gale,” Caesar continues, voice softening a little. “Did you go to the facility under the guise of investigating its ability to contain Katniss _Mellark_ ,” he emphasizes using my last name in tandem with Katniss, carefully studying Gale’s face for signs of distress, “while in reality having the intentions of seeking her out, in violation of your professional obligations and her right to confidentiality?” Gale looks up firmly, jaw set.

            “Yes,” he says, looking Caesar in the eye without flinching. “I abused my power to see her and to try and discover what she was being treated for.”

            “Why?”

            “I had recently learned that Katniss and Peeta had gotten married. They had been married for years, but I hadn’t known. I was enraged and acted rashly.” Caesar nods, supposedly sympathetically.

            “And what happened when you were _inspecting_ the facility?”

            “I tried to break into Katniss room. Peeta and Aurelius were trying to stop me, out of concern for her mental health. In this process Katniss was left alone. Peeta had to reenter the room to check on her and I forced my way in after him. We discovered that she had caused herself damage.”

            “In the recording you and Peeta discussed her ear?”

            “She cut it open,” he whispers, shuddering. “She was crying about how hard it was to hear my voice.”

            “Was she trying to redo the damage done during her first games,” Caesar asks, eyes wide. He’s drinking in the drama.

            “I don’t know. It doesn’t matter. When we found her, her stomach was protruding, round, swollen; clearly …” he trails off. “That’s how I found out what she was being treated for and what was causing her distress.”

            “How did that make you feel?” his voice is soft, dangerous.

            “Furious, at Peeta, at her. Clearly they weren’t ready and had been irresponsible. Jealous…that they he got to be together in that way.”

            “You wanted to hurt them?”

            “No!” Gale says loudly defensively. “I was in pain, but I did not want to hurt them…her.”

            “Gale,” Caesar says calmly. “I want to believe you. It’s just…you had the motive, the knowledge, the opportunity. You were upset. You said yourself, in regards to this matter you were acting rashly. You can tell me.” He’s not just telling Caesar though. He’s telling Panem. My heart is beating in my chest, praying that Gale knows that.

            “Am I still being honest Caesar?”

            “Yes Gale. You’re still being honest.” Gale takes a deep breath. The pause seems to last for an infinity. I notice suddenly that I’m clutching Katniss’ hand for dear life. I glance at her. She’s not staring at the TV. She’s looking directly at me. I don’t take my eyes away from hers as Gale answers.

            “I did not send that recording to Phillies Gorld. I did not contact any press, in any way regarding Katniss. I would never do that to her. I hate the media and the way they treat her. I blame you, the press, the Games for taking her from me. If she had not been turned into entertainment in the first place, she and Peeta never would have pretended to be in love, which means they never would have actually fallen in love, and they never would have gotten married. I wouldn’t have lost her.” He leans forward. “I love her Caesar, or at least I love who she used to be. I will always love that girl. I understand though that she can’t be with me. Too much has happened, and she loves Peeta too much to ever think of a life without him. That’s fine. I’ve grown up, and I’ve accepted it. That doesn’t mean I want to hurt her, and subjecting her to the likes of you, is hurting her. I. Did. Not. Leak. That. Recording.” Katniss grey seam eyes close, as she takes a deep steadying breath. When she opens them again, she’s turned back to look at the screen.

            “Then who did leak it Commander Hawthorne?” Caesar asks, dropping his caring tone.

            “I don’t know. Isn’t that the job of the investigators to find out?”

            “It is,” Caesar sounds annoyed, “but usually witness help. Giving us something to go off someone else to look into would be helping. If you can’t do that, than I’m sorry to say, I’ll remain convinced it was you.”

            “Then you’ll remain convinced it was me. You won’t be able to prove it, but I can’t help you. To my knowledge no one else knew about that phone call.” As Gale finishes speaking dramatic music begins to play, and that’s when it clicks. I want to punch myself in the face for not realizing it before. We did miss something. Someone else knew that I called Gale.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well...Caesar probably really hates Gale right now. I always wanted to see the two of them together, just because I imagine Gale being so hostile towards him that it might have ended in a fist fight. The scene with the two of them was the one I was anticipating writing the most when I first started this story, so it feel cathartic to finally have it out there. I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> Also I am honored and a little surprised to say that this story has gotten over 20,000 hits. So thank you to all of you! It amazes me every time I look at the hit count, and I am very grateful for the support that this story has gotten. Thank you so much!


	46. Chapter 46: More Than That

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings: Skewed Morals

“Call Plutarch!” I scream, jumping up out of my chair. Katniss starts at my sudden motion, muscles tensing, and one hand reflexively going to her stomach, the other clutching her bed sheets. Haymitch’s head whips around so fast he seems to pull a muscle in his neck. He clasps a hand to it, swearing loudly. “Get him on the phone now! I have to talk to him.”

            “I think my neck is in spasm.”

            “I don’t know if that’s even possible, Haymitch,” Katniss sighs.

            “When this kills me, you’re going to feel very guilty boy.” My wife rolls her eyes.

            “We’re in a hospital. Even if a pulled neck muscle were life threatening, there are doctors everywhere. No one is going to die.”

            “Will you two listen to me!” I shriek again, cutting them off. “We need to call Plutarch! I have to tell him…I’ve just remembered…it wasn’t Gale!” I’m so overcome with excitement I can’t get the words out.

            “You just now remembered you don’t think it was Gale?” Katniss asks, scrunching up her forehead, in confusion. “Peeta, that’s what you’ve been insisting for months.”

            “I just remembered! I can prove it!” Haymitch and Katniss look at each other.

            “I know this is hard for you Peeta,” my mentor says carefully. “If I were married it would be difficult for me to admit that I was wrong too.” I let out a roar of frustration, violently leaving my chair, and rushing out into the hall. The young nurse jumps, as I exit the room. She pushes the phone towards me automatically. I glance at her as I dial, thinking about everything she’s probably picked up about my personal life without me even noticing. She was right next to me while I discussed my wife with the president, harassed my mother in law into coming and during several personal phone calls with Aurelius. She was there, in the background, forgotten once she helped, but still there, unnoticed, listening maybe…maybe not.

“Do you mind giving me some space?” I ask her kindly, as the phone begins to ring. She shakes her head timidly, and gathers up some papers, before leaving. Plutarch finally answers.

            “Peeta! Did you see the interrogation! Unbelievable!”

            “It was an interview Plutarch, not an interrogation. That’s not the point though.”

            “This is just horrible,” he simpers, giddily. “How is Katniss holding up?”

            “She’s fine. Listen I called because I want you to know it wasn’t Gale.”

            “I understand Peeta,” he says knowingly.

            “You do?” I ask feeling hopeful.

            “I do. I feel betrayed too. He was such an asset to us during the war, so photogenic as well. It’s all very hardtop accept.”

            “No,” I tell him, mouth falling open. “No. I’m calling because I want to know if you thought about the receptionist.”

            “Who?”

            “The receptionist. When I called Gale, I didn’t have his personal link. I called the main number for District 2’s peacekeepers and the receptionist put me through.”

            “The receptionist?” Plutarch repeats, slowly. “We can’t have looked into him yet. Caesar would have done an interrogation.”

            “You mean _interview_ but yes the receptionist. He asked for my name and everything. Wanted to know if I was _the_ Peeta Mellark of the Star Crossed Lovers.”

            “You think the receptionist is the leak.”

            “They record all those phone calls. The receptionist could have gone back and listened if he were curious, or he could have stayed on the line after he had transferred me and listened in. That would explain why the phone call Gorld got came from the same office.”

            “A twist!”

            “No,” I say, shaking my head quickly. “It’s not a twist it’s a lead.”

            “I love it!”

            “You’re not supposed to love it. You’re supposed to go question him…preferably not on live national television.”

            “My ratings are going to go off the charts!” There’s a click and the line goes dead. That’s probably a good thing, since my mouth was opening to yell at Plutarch right as he hung up. I will never be comfortable with that man and his obsession with ratings. Turning, I spot the nurse, poking her head around the corner. I shake my head at her.

            “No offense, but I no longer trust you. Or anyone.” Her eyes widen in surprise, but I don’t explain myself. Reentering our room, I find Haymitch and Katniss staring intently at the screen. Glancing at it, I see that Caesar Flickerman is still talking. “What now?” I groan.

            “He’s assembled a panel of interrogation experts, to analyze what Gale said,” Haymitch says squinting at the screen. “There!” he yells suddenly, making me jump. “That one on the right.” I cast my eyes at the woman he’s point at. She looks vaguely familiar. My mentor turns with a smug smile on his face to my wife. “See, sweetheart, I told you. That’s Effie’s old assistant.” Katniss is squinting at the screen. She makes a noise of confirmation.        

            “I’ve decided to stop taking this seriously,” she sighs.

            “Not taking anything the Capitol does seriously makes life much easier,” Haymitch responds, just as smugly. “That and alcohol.”

***

            “The receptionist?” Katniss repeats slowly. The blinds now drawn and Haymitch wandering the halls, terrorizing the doctors, in search of rubbing alcohol, I feel safe telling her. We lie in our usual position in bed, except this time both our hands are stroking her massive bump, instead of just mine on her flat stomach.

            “Yeah,” I breath. “He asked for my name, wanted to know if I was part of the Star Crossed Lovers. Told me that Gale was expecting my call. He knew that I called, and had access to the recording.”

            “Gale might not have done it,” she responds quietly. I can’t see her face, but she absent-mindedly strokes my hand.

            “How would that make you feel?”

            “Guilty, for doubting him.” She swallows. “How would you feel if it turns out he did do it?”

            “Like a fool for getting taken along.” She doesn’t answer, instead her fingers find their way to my wedding ring. It lacks the pearl that hers has. She offered, but I wanted something I could keep on while baking. We have the same engraving, “Always.” She twists it around my finger, as I did with hers the night before.

            “You’re not a fool. You’re a good person, who wants to believe the best in people.” I press my forehead to the back of the head, kissing her neck. She reaches one hand up, tangling her fingers in my hair. “You are genuine. You are kind. You are twice the person I could ever be,” she whispers. As she speaks, I’m taken back in time, to our toasting, the first time she ever spoke these things to me. I can almost see the firelight illuminating us, even five years later. “I could not be without you, because you keep me attached to this earth and this life. Your goodness and your warmth and your life, keeps me burning, because that is how real my love is for you. I would have no life without you. Loving you makes me feel alive which is why I choose, of unburdened mind, stay with you always.”

            “Those are my favorite words you’ve ever spoken,” I tell her. “I can smell the bread.”

            “That’s one of my happiest memories,” she confides in me. I almost don’t ask the question, not wanting to ruin this moment.

            “Are you closer to being happy again?”

            “I was closer before…”

            “You aren’t going to lose her,” I whisper. “You’ve stopped bleeding.” It’s true. Clora officially declared her bleeding had stopped a few hours before the broadcast. We were still stuck in the hospital because they wanted to make sure it didn’t start again. Or at least that’s what they said. It’s more than likely that we’re really still here because there is no safe way to get us out.

            “So much can go wrong,” she tells me, making a small choking sound. I feel a kick. Katniss inhales sharply.

            “Hold onto her moving,” I whisper. “That’s our daughter. She’s in you, and she’s still healthy. Every time she moves tell yourself that.” She nods.

            “It’ll be okay.”

            “It will be more than that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A twist! Or a lead depending on if you're from District 12 or the Capital. Thank you for reading as always, and please comment!
> 
> I got a little emotional yesterday, because I started writing the last chapter. I'm so relieved I still get to write the epilogue, or I probably would have started balling. I've been writing this story for over a year now and I'm going to feel sad to see it end!


	47. Chapter 47: Sage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings: Discussion of confinement and mention of family loss

            “This is ridiculous!” I hear Haymitch yelling from the hallway. He’s on a conference call with Plutarch, Paylor and Thom. “It’s a safety hazard! I haven’t had a drop of liquor in twenty four hours!” There’s a long pause as the other people on the phone call respond. The door is open a crack, and I’m listening in, trying to determine how much longer till we can go home. Katniss is still sleeping, resting in my arms, undisturbed despite Haymitch’s loud voice. “Mow them down then! I don’t care! I’ve got two war heroes here who are about to have a baby and would like to go home to prepare in peace.”

            I nuzzle Katniss’ hair a little, inhaling her sent. Even though she hasn’t been in the woods for months I can still smell the wind, the dirt, rain, and pine. The smell instantly relaxes me, and my head goes back into the pillow as I hazily enjoy my proximity to my wife. Just having her near by, over powers me. Haymitch’s angry retort to whatever the officials have said is lost on my, till I hear a familiar name.

            “Hold on a second, Aurelius just walked in! What the hell is he doing here!” There’s a pause and I hear the soft mummer of the psychiatrist responding. “No! I know that Peeta asked him. I mean how did he get past the mob outside?” I assume Thom is the one to answer. “Oh I see! So getting the head doctor in is a priority, but getting innocent caring mentors, such as myself out, just isn’t important.” The door opens a little more as Aurelius pushes it gently. He gives me a small sad smile, nodding to me in greeting, once he notices Katniss still slumbering in my arms. I nod back, not wanting to take my arms off my wife to greet him.

            “Do you need me to wake her?” I ask, in a loud whisper. He shakes his head quickly, but Katniss as already begun to stir as Haymitch’s voice gets louder, drifting in through the now almost completely open door.

            “We overthrew an oppressive government! You expect me to believe that a handful of reporters is too much for us to handle!” Katniss sits up in my arms, rubbing her eyes and yawning widely.

            “Sorry,” Aurelius says quickly, stepping into the room and closing the door. “I shouldn’t have woken you. Rest is important.”

            “I’m confined to a bed till labor begins,” the woman of my dream answers. “Me getting rest is not something we need to worry about.”

            “Right, the bed rest,” he answers setting down his suitcases, and taking my usual chair next to the bed. Katniss stays leaned forward, body still resting between my legs. I subconsciously begin to rub a spot on her shoulders were she often gets knots. She relaxes at my touch, even though Aurelius is present. “How do you feel about that?”

            “I’m not exactly looking forward to it,” she answers. “The restriction of motion that just comes as part of pregnancy were already driving me up the wall.”

            “Are you worried it will feel like it did in 13? Like you’re trapped I mean.” I shudder at the memory of the underground district. It’s not wonder I never fully recovered from the hijacking there. The air was stuffy and without sunlight, there was no way to feel alive. Katniss shoulder tense, like rocks, I apply a little more pressure, and she forces her shoulders down in responds.

            “That was probably the most restricted my movement ever was,” she answers. “Except for when I was stuck in that room during the trial. Although at least then I could do what I wanted when I wanted and I was above ground.”

            “You’ll be above ground,” Aurelius answers. “And in your own home.”

            “I’ve only felt free when I can run, be in the woods, move away from things,” Katniss answers. Aurelius nods sadly. I let out a sigh. “I won’t be free to do anything.”

            “Don’t think of it like that,” the therapist says quickly. “It’s not that you aren’t free. You’re choosing to stay in bed for the wellbeing of your daughter.” Before Katniss can answer, there’s a knock on the door. Haymitch just opens it, so he can stick his head in. That’s unusual. He normally just comes in without bothering to announce himself.

            “What is it?” I ask, “Did Paylor, Thom and Plutarch finally hang up on you.”

            “No,” he growls, coughing a little. “There’s someone out here…” Understanding hits me. They must have been on the same train. I had hoped for more time.

            “Who?” Katniss asks. Haymitch open the door a little more, wide enough for him to enter now, but still preventing whoever is behind him from coming in. He runs his hand through his hair uncomfortably.

            “Your mother,” he finally tells her. Silence. Aurelius stands up automatically, and I begin to maneuver my way out from behind Katniss. Haymitch steps in, and Mrs. Everdeen passes through the doorframe. Her blond hair is pulled back into a bun and beginning to grey. Her face has a few more wrinkles than I remember. For some reason I notice that none of them are smile wrinkles. I finally make it to my feet, and still no one speaks. Haymitch coughs, and Aurelius begins looking for something in his bags. I’d give a month’s winnings for someone to speak. Finally the Capitol citizen straightens. He places a few magazines on the bedside table.

            “When I stopped into speak to Paylor, I ran into Effie. It was very important to her that you look through those,” he gestures to the magazines, “And pick out what you want for the nursery.” He turns to Haymitch, “Perhaps we should give the family a moment to speak and make decorating decisions.” I’ve never heard Aurelius express a belief that decorating is important. He clearly is trying to find an excuse to leave. Haymitch nods, grasping at the alibi. The two of them depart. Mrs. Everdeen steps to one side to allow it, and as the door closes, silence descends once more. I glance at Katniss. Her face is expressionless, frozen like ice. Mrs. Everdeen coughs and reaches into her own bag.

            “I brought you something,” she half chokes, pulling out a few glass vials. “It’s essential oil. I mean the oil from herbs and such. I brought lavender, sandalwood and sage.” She’s talking quickly. “Lavender and sandalwood can help with anxiety. Normally rose can be good for depression and creating balance too, but what with…Snow, and…so I brought sage instead because I remembered you liked the smell of it.” She holds out the three bottles clearly at a loss for what to do. I take a step towards her, out stretching my hand.

            “Thank you,” I say, smiling at her reassuringly. I can’t believe she’s here. She looks back at me, eyes wide.

            “What are you doing here?” Katniss demands, finally speaking. Her voice is cold. I turn to shoot her a look, but she’s focused on her mother. My mother in law coughs uncomfortably.

            “You didn’t tell her, Peeta?” she asks softly.

            “Tell me what?” Katniss demands.

            “Umm,” I begin, faltering a little as her gaze shifts to me. “I called her, when we first got here.” Katniss doesn’t answer for a moment.

            “Well it just seems that everyone will always know my secrets before I do.” I wince at her words. Did she have to remind me of Finnick?

            “Katniss,” Mrs. Everdeen begins, but her daughter cuts her off.

            “Don’t start with me. I’m too busy being in shock about your ability to get on a train. I didn’t think you could anymore, because in the last five years you’ve never once visited or called.”

            “Stop,” I snap at her. Katniss turns her vengeful glare back to me. “I’m not going to stand her and listen to you two not talk and be resentful towards one another. Katniss, your mother has made mistakes, but that’s not an excuse to shut her out. You need to give her a chance to do the right thing. Mrs. Everdeen loss is not a reason to cut yourself off from the people you love. We can’t help you when you do that, and things just become more painful. Besides, everyone here has lost someone. It doesn’t make you special…my whole family is dead.” I’m surprised to find a lump forming in my throat as I speak. “My original family…I’m the only one left, and frankly I’d kill to have even one family member still alive. Last I checked that is what the two of you have.” I take a deep steadying breath. “Now we’re about to have a baby, and I’m sick of watching you two waste what little you each have left.” I sit down in the chair Aurelius just vacated, heavily, roughly placing down the oil as I go. Katniss is staring fixedly at her bedspread.

            “I’m sorry,” Mrs. Everdeen whispers. “What Peeta said aside, I should have come home a long time ago. If you can’t forgive that I understand.” My wife looks up, face still blank, guarded.

            “Well…you’re here now.” I let out a sigh of relief. “It’s better than nothing.” The older healer nods. “And I suppose you are Willow’s grandmother, and Peeta’s right. We don’t exactly have family to spare.” Even though she’s saying the words, there’s something dead about them. I didn’t expect her to warm up to her mother quickly, and my heartbeat quickens, hoping Mrs. Everdeen won’t be discouraged. She doesn’t seem phased though. She lets out a breath in relief that’s she’s being permitted to stay. Almost to have something to do, Katniss reaches for the oils, picking up the sage and carefully opening the bottle.

            “I remembered that being your favorite as a child,” her mother says quickly, perching herself on the edge of the couch. “If you still like it, you can put a dab on your wrists.”

            “I remember,” Katniss says. I watch silently as she places her wrist over the opening, and expertly tips her wrist and bottle upside down and straightens it again. Once the bottle is capped, she rubs her wrists together, bringing them to her nose. “It’s nice,” she says. Mrs. Everdeen nods, seemingly lost for words. My wife jumps a little touching her stomach.

            “She kicking?” I ask, resting my head on the palm of my hand. Katniss nods. Mrs. Everdeen starts forward before stopping herself, face almost desperate. Her daughter glances at her.

            “Do you want to feel?” Katniss ask, unceremoniously. Her mother’s eyes widen, and she nods, standing and making her way towards the other side of the bed. Katniss grabs her mother’s hand roughly and places it on her stomach, looking tense. There’s a pause, and Mrs. Everdeen lets out a choking sound.

            “Willow right?” she asks, sitting down on the bed and placing both her hands on Katniss’ bump. I make eye contact with Katniss. Her eyes are narrowed, and lips are pursed.

            “Yes,” I cut in quickly. “That’s Willow.” I reach out for the magazines as Katniss waves her mother off her stomach.

            “It’s not that interesting,” she tells Mrs. Everdeen flatly. “That’s all she does.”

            “We’ve always had different definitions of interesting Katniss,” her mother whispers. I hold out the magazines.

            “Maybe we should look through these.” The two women look at me. “With reporters outside it’s not like we have much else to do.” I hand a third to Katniss. “Mrs. Everdeen would you like to help?”

            “I’d love to,” she answers me warmly, glancing at Katniss.

            “Take some,” my thirty-two week pregnant wife answers. “It means I’ll have to look through less useless Capital crap.”

            “Haymitch is rubbing off on you,” I tell Katniss as I hand Mrs. Everdeen a third of the stack.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> She finally showed up! Took her long enough. I nearly brought her in a couple of times, but each time Katniss wound up relapsing, which seemed too mean. So...it was probably best that she waited till Katniss was more stable. Instead we should be mad that she's messed up so much her daughter can't see her without freaking out.   
> We're getting down to the final stretch here. I'm rewriting and reworking the last few chapters, already. Only six more to go! Thank you all for reading, please leave a comment!


	48. Chapter 48: Answering Phones

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings: Mention of mental health struggles and illusions to very foul languages. Also censorships.

Clearing the reporters away from the hospital takes another day or two. Once Thom finally makes it through the front door he looks dead. He sways slightly on his feet, and seems less than thrilled when Haymitch greets him by demanding to know where the liquor is. The ensuing screaming match about the importance of being grateful and the value of Haymitch’s geese makes Katniss chuckle. Part of me thinks Haymitch notices and prolongs the argument on purpose. Eventually Mrs. Everdean becomes impatient, and instead redirects the conversation to discharging Katniss so we can all go home, for which Thom seems grateful. Birk arrives with Clora to formally discharge my girls. The lectures about the importance of not moving seem to stretch on forever. Since it stopped quickly and no transfusion was need, the doctors declare the bleeding she experience to be on the lighter side. Katniss is not allowed to exercise or really spend more than fifteen minutes a day on her feet. Additionally we’re strongly cautioned against having intercourse, since that is what exacerbated the bleeding to begin with. We wheel Katniss to the car Thom brought around and are all driven home.

            The days that follow pass in much the same manner as the weeks we spent between games as teenagers, when Katniss hurt her ankle. She spends the first part of the day in our temporary bedroom. As the day passes, I eventually carry her down to the living room, and we watch Capitol Wealth or flip through the nursery magazines Effie left. Occasionally Mrs. Everdean will join us, to watch television or flip through catalogues, but normally she spends her time compulsively cleaning or cooking a ridiculously large amount of food. Katniss will also normally nap for an hour or two at some point, which I take advantage of. I use this time to perfect the painting I started in the Capitol that finally arrived.

            The day after we arrive home from the hospital, Plutarch issues an announcement informing the citizens of Panem that there has been a surprise development in the investigation, as he has taken to calling it. He asks that we all be patient as he and his team works on bring us these updates. However in the mean time any citizens of Panem who would like to help name the investigation are welcome to call in with their votes.

            “Baby Bomb 2.0!” Haymitch screams at the television as he sits in our living room, flask clutched in one hand, plate of food cooked by my mother in law balanced on his knees. Katniss and I both look at him, partially in shock, but neither of us says anything.

It turns out that we’re only required to be patient for about a week, before the investigation begins to air again. I still insist we watch. Katniss lies on the couch making clucking noises of annoyance, hands resting on her thirty-three week pregnant belly, as there is some banging coming from the kitchen. Her mother is cooking again. I lift Katniss legs, gently so I can sit down, choosing to ignore her clear agitation at her mother. Haymitch glances in the direction of the kitchen from his armchair.

“You’ll run out of food at this rate,” he comments darkly. “Also you’d both be doing me a favor if you could make this place messier. When she didn’t have anything to clean over here today, she stopped by my place and tried to throw things away.” His tone implies that throwing things away is something akin to murder.

“Hording is a disease Haymitch,” Katniss informs him. “Would you like to speak to Aurelius about it.”

“Or if you prefer,” I add quickly. “I think they have some kind of reality television show about it in the Capital.” He shoots me a venomous look.

“I’ve had enough of the Capital’s reality television programs to last me a life time,” he growls. Thankfully we’re interrupted by the theme music playing, so we three Victors let the subject of the Games hang ominously in the room, as Caesar Flickerman appears on screen.

“Good evening Panem. Before we begin today’s continuation of the investigation I have some important announcements. The votes are in, and this investigation shall hence forth be known as Operation Baby on Fire!” There’s a pause as some kind of epic music plays and the words “Operation Baby of Fire!” Flash across the screen, in a haze of flame and smoke that momentarily dominates the screen. I roll my eyes. Katniss gags. The flames and smoke clear, as the text fades. Caesar reappears.

“My second announcement is that the Mockingjay has been discharged from the hospital this previous week. Reporters had to be extracted from District 12 so that the expectant mother could make it back to her home in Victor’s Village safely. She and her husband are currently awaiting the birth of their daughter, and they thank all of us for our understanding and concern.

“We do?” I ask blankly.

“Screw all of them,” Katniss hisses. Caesar puts his hand over his heart dramatically.

“I’m very excited on their behalf about the addition to their family, and I am equally pleased to hear that Peeta Mellark has been keeping tabs on our very important work. This leads me to final announcement regarding tonight’s programing. Mr. Mellark called our head of communications after our last broadcast to alert to details regarding Commander Hawthorne’s comportment that only recently occurred to him. For this reason I would like to invite Gale Hawthorne back out to join us.” Gale reappears, looking stony and livid. His muscles are tense and as he takes a seat I notice his leg beginning to bounce quickly.

“Welcome back Commander. Thank you for agreeing to return to the Capital.”

“You’re not welcome. This has become a hindrance, Caesar.”

“Which is why you had to bring the head receptionist from your District’s commanding office correct.” Gale looks at Caesar confused now.

“No. You subpoenaed him too.” The interviewer makes a quick flapping motion and kicks Gale in the shins. He lets out a loud huff. “What is the matter with you!” the former District 12 resident yells at the Capital star.

“As I was saying Commander Hawthorne, you brought the receptionist to help you work remotely correct,” Caesar snaps, through gritted teeth, staring at Gale pointedly. The interviewee’s mouth his hanging open in shock and confusion.

“Sure…” he agrees reluctantly.

“Why don’t you tell us a little bit about what your receptionist does.”

“He…does what receptionist do Caesar.”

“Answer phones?”

“Yes, and manage the flow of people coming in and out of the office.”

“Mostly answering phones though?”

“I don’t know,” Gale snaps, clearly losing patients with this strategy and still clutching his shin. “Are you considering a change in career path?”

“Now Commander Hawthorne, there is no need to take that tone.”

“I disagree! There is every reason to take this tone! You drag me here because for some reason this television program has been given the power to issue subpoenas! You interrupt me from protecting the good people of District Two, in order to participate in this freak show that you call an INVESTIGATION! This is a _BLEEP_ entertainment program!” All three of us jump as an automated noise covers Gale’s yells. Clearly Plutarch is editing him, trying to cover up potentially inappropriate content, but I can fill in the blanks. “And then you kick me in the shins because you’re a _BLEEP_! And all because I used to be in love with Katniss Everdean back before you traumatized her to the point that she was hardly even a _BLEEP_ person anymore! It was FIVE _BLEEP_ YEARS AGO! She’s with Peeta for real now! I did nothing to screw up your BLEEP television program! None of this is needed!” Gale gets to his feet violently and kicks the prop coffee table to the side. Before letting out a small chuckle of laughter.

“Except I forgot it’s very necessary because this a form of entertainment. You’re treating us to another story about Katniss, _your_ Girl on Fire, _your_ Mockingjay. And entertaining the masses is more important than actually devoting serious time and resources to finding out who sold her out, because to you she isn’t a person at all! She’s a character, and all of you out there!” He points angrily at the camera and begins to walk towards it. “All of you out there! You people who don’t recognize her as a person who you have no right to, you all make me-” He’s only a few inches away from the camera when the image suddenly crash cuts into a color test screen accompanied by an annoying buzzing sound. Plutarch’s voice comes on.

“This is a…previously scheduled test of the broadcasting system. Panem’s television will return shortly.” The message fades out and the beeping returns.

“I always loved that boy,” Mrs. Everdean says suddenly. We all jump, turning to see her standing a few feet behind the couch, dishtowel in hand. “Very honest. Very bold. Very Seam,” she finishes definitively.

“I hope the odds are in his favor,” Haymitch mutters, taking a swig from his flask. There’s a sudden click and the picture comes back. We are treated to a close up of Caesar’s face as he looks gravely into the camera.

“We here at Panem’s broadcasting system would like to thank Commander Hawthorne for his assistance in our investigation. Unfortunately Gale has been called away on…urgent…peacekeeper business.” Caesar pauses, and Haymitch adds an aside, for the benefit for the living room.

“Urgent peacekeeper business…is that what we’re calling being beaten to death by Plutarch these days?”

“We’re in luck though,” Flickerman continues. The camera pans out, bringing a man I’ve never seen before into the shot. He looks confused, flustered, and as though he’d pay to be anywhere else. “We have with us none other than Commander Hawthorne’s…receptionist.” He nods kindly to his new guest, who is leaning as far back as possible. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch you name, sir.”

“Berald…Berald Nittles,” he stammers.

“Wonderful, thank you for joining us Berald. It was very kind of you to agree to come to help Commander Hawthorne with his work load.”

“Yes…” Berald agrees, glancing nervously at something off camera.

“Tell me Berald…as a receptionist do you…answer phones?” Caesar asks dreamily, balancing his head on his hand with a genuine and interested smile.

“What is it with this man and phones tonight?” Mrs. Everdean asks from behind the couch. My heart sinks as I realize I might be looking at the man who sold out Katniss.

“Yes,” Berald says. “I…I answer phones.”

“And you direct phone calls from people calling your department?”

“Yes.”

“And all phone calls made to station are recorded?”

“Commander Hawthorne already told you that,” Berald says, eyes darting around the set.

“You are correct he did,” Caesar says kindly. “Do you have access to those recordings?” Berald eyes land firmly on his interviewer now.

“Only…only if I transferred the call…for customer service purposes.”

“Interesting…let’s go back. Your Commander thinks that no one was aware the he and Mr. Peeta Mellark spoke on the telephone. Would that be possible?”

“Oh yes,” Berald says, sounding relieved. “If Mr. Mellark called the Commander using his personal com link than only Commander Hawthorne would have had access to the call. Officers cannot access recorded phone calls that they were not on.”

“So the only people who can access recordings are those whose voices are on it?”

“Yes…of course provided they work for District 2’s Peacekeeping offices,” Berald explains knowledgably. Caesar nods, brow furrowed.

“So…that would mean based off the recording we’ve heard only Commander Hawthorne would have had access to it.”

“Correct. He likely released it to Gorld without full understanding of the repercussions. Love makes people do foolish things.” Berald rings his hands in his lap. “I hope you won’t be too harsh on him. He is a good man.”

“It’s too early to be hard on him Berald. He might not have done it,” Caesar tells him causally. Berald tears his eyes away from his hands, looking at Caesar in surprise and shock.

“But you just said-” The interviewer cuts of his guest.

“The recording we heard last week was tampered with. It was not the full recording. We requested the full recording be brought for us to hear.” He turns to look at someone off camera. “Can we play the recording?” There’s a pause, and a voice floats back to me through the speakers, brining me back in time.

“ _Hello District Two law enforcement, how can I direct your call?_ ” a voice begins. It does sound like Berald, who gasps audibly on screen.

“ _This is Peeta Mellark calling for Gale Hawthorne._ ” There’s a long pause.

“ _Peeta Mellark of the Start Crossed Lovers?_ ” he asks, professional tone breaking a little.

“ _Yes._ ” I still sound annoyed

“ _Very well Mr. Mellark. Commander Hawthorne told me you’d be calling. I’ll transfer you._ ” A melody begins to play, the hold music. Then Gale’s voice takes over, as the music ends.

“ _Peeta?_ ” Gale says urgently. “ _It’s been nearly two weeks are you saying it took her that long to recover?_ ”

“I don’t think we need to hear the rest!” Caesar calls, and the recording stops playing. He turns back to Berald, whose eyes are closed and mouth covered with his own hands. “Was that your voice Berald?”

“Yes,” he answers quietly, eyes not opening.

“You were aware that Peeta Mellark called your boss?”

“Yes.”

“And you had access to the recording…for customer service quality purposes?”

“Yes.”

“Did you listen in on their phone call?”

“No,” he says quickly. “That’s not possible.”

“But you did go back later and listen to the recording?” Berald swallows, leaning forward.

“I didn’t know when I listened…that…she was…”

“You did go back then?”

“Yes! I went back and I listened to the recording! I wasn’t planning on telling the press though!”

“Not _planning_ on telling the press when you went back, but that is what you eventually did?” Berald takes a moment to answer.

“When I heard that she was pregnant…I was so happy!” A few tears begin to fall down his face. “I remember her during the Quell and during the war…all the times it looked like she and Peeta were going to lose each other…were going to die, and now they’re having a baby! It seemed selfish to keep all this joy to myself! I wasn’t aware of the extent of her mental health problems! I didn’t want to hurt her! I just wanted the world to be able to celebrate!” He begins to hiccup hysterically. “I’m so…sorry!” he gasps between heaves. Caesar shakes his head angrily.

“Well Berald. I hope you’re happy. You hurt the one citizen of Panem who has given us everything, and dragged her struggles out into the open.” He turns away from his now balling guest to look at the camera. “Thank you for watching Panem, and to Peeta Mellark, thank you especially for watching and providing us with the information we needed to put this whole matter to rest,” his somber tone changes into one of pure joy and excitement, “Tune in next time for Berald’s sentencing and the official end of Operation Baby on Fire!” The text and fire and smoke dominate the screen again, as the dramatic music plays.

“Well,” my wife says, hitting turning the TV off. “You were right Peeta…it wasn’t Gale.”

“That line was so played out,” I sigh, deciding not to make a big deal about being right and rubbing her feet instead.

“What line?” Mrs. Everdean asks, sitting down in the only empty armchair.

“The whole I did it because I loved her so much and I wanted the country to celebrate with her thing. That’s been played out since the war…in fact, that basically was the whole media scheme during the war. He should have said something like, ‘I did it for revenge because Cato and I were lovers before she killed him.’” My mother in law is gaping at me. Haymitch lets out a light chuckle.

“How do you come up with this?” Mrs. Everdean asks, reluctantly impressed.

“It started out as self preservation…now I just can’t turn it off.” Katniss lets out a contented sigh as I rub her feet, working on her arches. I glance up at her and smile. She smiles back. “Do you think we should slip him that story?” I ask. “Plutarch will probably give him a lighter sentence, if he finds a way to add a bit of drama.”

“No,” the other two Victors in the room both say firmly at the same time. Katniss is still smiling at me though. She leans forward and runs her hands through my hair.

“You’re much kinder and forgiving than I can ever be,” she tells me. I squeeze her fingers back warmly, and part of me is grateful that she and Haymitch don’t want to help. Without the added drama things will blow over much faster, and we’ll be back to Capital Wealth reruns within a few weeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for not posting last week. It was midterms and I had a paper to write. Then I basically inhaled a couple of books as part of my post midterm recovery process. It comes highly recommended. Also highly recommended is not punching Capital Media members in the face, even when they deserve it. That's what Gale is for. Hopefully everyone is feeling a little warmer and more forgiving towards him, now that they know he didn't do it. Please comment and thank you for reading as always!


	49. Chapter 49: Tense

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings: Acknowledgement of self harm and loss and grief. Additionally symptoms of chronic anxiety.

“Peeta?” she whispers my name in the middle of the night quietly. I’ve been drifting between dreaming and waking for some time now, not able to fully rest, because of her lying beside me. Even though she hasn’t expressed it, I’ve sensed her discomfort, the tossing and the turning, the constant scowl as the days go by. It’s hard for me to relax when she’s on edge. “Peeta?” My name sounds like music on her lips. I respond by making a light noise in the back of my throat. Her fingers begin to run through my hair. I open my eyes to find her lying on her side next to me, and automatically my arms wrap around her 34 weeks pregnant body.

“Where you sleeping?” she asks, trying to sound casual. She hates to wake me.

“No,” I respond, truthfully, while still stifling a yawn. “What time is it?”

“Two in the morning.” I sigh at her words. “Don’t lecture me about resting. It’s all I do, so it’s no wonder I’m not tired.”

“I wouldn’t dream of lecturing you.” Her lips twitch into a brief but unmistakable smile. “If there’s something on your mind though, I wish you’d share. It sometimes helps to talk about it you know.” Her face darkens for a minute, and for an instant I think I’ve touched on a sour memory. Her face clears though before I can think too hard about it.

“I’m thinking about…too much.” I nod understandingly, closing my eyes, temporarily blocking out the moonlight streaming through the guest room window. Upon opening them again, I see her eyes are wider.

“Let me help,” I whisper. “We can start with one thing. Something little.”

“The nursery.”

“I thought you and your mother had been looking at the catalogues.” It’s true. Slowly the past week, since the last interrogation, Mrs. Everdeen has begun spending more time with Katniss, looking at things for babies, picking out functional pieces and comfortable rocking chairs.

“We have been…she just asked what room we were going to put everything in.” I pause for a moment at this. We live in what was once Katniss’ family’s home, which only has three bedrooms on the second floor, the master and two spares. The room we are currently sleeping in is Mrs. Everdeen’s old room. She’s been sleeping in an extra nook of the living room, not wanting to be anywhere near the third bedroom, which is too painful to touch. The third bedroom is Prim’s old room. I reflexively tighten my grip on Katniss. I can feel her heart pounding inside her body as I hold her to my chest.  I swallow.

“Well…the baby can’t sleep in the nook…so we have two options…we can either move back into the master bedroom and convert this room or…”

“I’m not up for going through her things,” Katniss cuts across me firmly.

“Right…” I draw the word out, thinking about ways to take our time with this. “Well then, I guess, once I talk to Effie and things start arriving, we’ll move back to our room.” Katniss nods slowly against my chest. “There’s really nothing wrong with that room.” I remind her gently. “It’s all a memory now, and we’re far past it. None of that can hurt you now.”

“I can’t hurt myself?” she asks, disbelievingly.

“No, because you value your life and Willow’s life more now than you did back then. At this moment and this time, you love her too much to cause yourself harm and put her at risk. So that means you aren’t able to hurt yourself. You don’t have that hate and despair in you.” She makes a slight noise of agreement, but doesn’t actually speak. I jump at the chance to change the subject. “Is your mother something else you’re thinking too much about? How is that going?”

“It’s…strange.”

“Define strange.”

“Just having her here, trying to help. We’re talking but not really talking…it’s like…neither one of us is really saying what’s on our minds.”

“What is on your mind?” I ask, beginning to draw light circles on her shoulder.

“I want to be mad at her but I don’t feel like I have a right to. She did leave me alone after…the bombs on the square, but I haven’t exactly given her the opportunity to be in my life. I didn’t tell her when we got married or that we’re pregnant.”

“In your defense, it was hard for you to tell yourself about the pregnancy. There wasn’t really a good time to tell your mother.”

“Still…”Katniss whispers, trailing off, fingers absentmindedly playing with the shirt to my pajamas. “I wish she had wanted to be around more.” I nod.

“It probably felt easier to not let her in rather than to give her the chance reconcile and have her not take it.” My wife nods glumly into my chest. I kiss her forehead sweetly. “Have you thought about telling her any of this?” Katniss shakes her head quickly. I didn’t expect her to be receptive to the idea. Verbally expressing her emotions has never been her greatest strength.

“Having her back is…fine…for now. I don’t expect it to last though.”

“Why not?”

“The baby will come, and she’ll stay for a week or so…I’m guessing. Then she’ll go back to the life she made for herself, and we’ll hear from her occasionally, or at least around birthdays. She’ll never come back though. There’s no point in wanting her to be around, because it will never happen.”

“She might surprise you. She came because I told her that if she didn’t, there would never be any hope for your relationship. On some level she wants to be in your life.”

“I’ll never trust her enough to believe it’ll last,” Katniss snaps, so I let the subject go. We lie together in bed, silent. I watch the shadows on the wall move and just begin to feel as though I’m falling back to sleep when Katniss breaks the stillness, pulling me back to the land of living.

“Do you know what’s going on with Gale and the investigation?”

“I know they sentenced…what was it Berald?”

“Yes,” she confirms. “Berald.”

“They sentenced him to a steep fine and community service, not to mention the fact that apparently he’s been stripped of all licenses to work with classified information, and he got fired.”

“I knew that,” she huffs, “I mean with Gale. What’s going to happen to him? Didn’t you say Paylor wanted him fired for abuse of power?”

“Oh you mean about his visit to the institution? Yes, she did mention something about that.” Katniss sits silently for a moment.

“I…” she hesitates. “I don’t think he should be fired.”

“You don’t?” I ask confused. “Because a few days ago you were convinced that he was the leak and deserved what was coming t him.”

“I know,” she groans exasperated. “He didn’t tell the press though, and all he really did was…”

“Abuse his position to get access to you, causing you to tailspin into an emotional break down and slice your own ear open,” I remind her.

“Worse things have been done to me,” she says darkly, “And talking to Caesar Flickerman about how he feels is probably enough of a punishment.”

“You aren’t going to distract me with jokes,” I tell her.

“It’s Gale, Peeta,” she explains. “He acts rashly, motivated by emotion. He’s never thought things through, and I’m sure he won’t try to pull anything like that again…at least not where you and I are concerned.”

“So what…you don’t want him punished for violating your right to confidentiality.”

“It was my confidentiality he violated, so I think I should get to decide something like that.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.” She hesitates.

“I helped him stay alive for a long time. It would seem counterintuitive now, to let him get hurt,” she tells me, in a forced monotone. I nod slowly into her hair, not buying her forced and calculated answer. She must sense this. “He was my friend.” I’ve used that line with her before.

“Okay,” I say calmly. “I’ll call Paylor and ask her not to fire him or demote him or anything like that.” Katniss stays silent for a moment.

“Thank you,” she finally answers. I pull her a little closer and kiss the top of her head. I spend the rest of the night drifting fitfully between the work of the waking and the sleeping. I can’t drift off, with Katniss so discontent and restless. After getting off the phone with Paylor the next day I watch her carefully. Even while relaxing on the couch she seems tense, shoulders lifted, fingers constantly in motion, playing with her hair, the bedspread, everything within reach. At one point I try to message her shoulders and sooth her into a nap. Her muscles are like rocks and refuse to give under my touch.

“Stop it,” she snaps after a few minutes. “It just hurts when you do that.”

“Because you’re so tense,” I shot back, ignoring her directive, and pushing my elbow into one of her shoulders, trying to loosen the death grip her muscles have on each other.

“OUCH!” she half hollers, but before she can bite my head off, there’s a soft knock at the door, prompting us both to look up. Mrs. Everdeen is standing in the doorway, holding a cup of tea and the bottles of essential oils she brought.

“Sorry to interrupt,” my mother in law half whispers, looking at Katniss nervously, “But may I try?” Katniss waves her hand dismissively, and I surrender my seat to Mrs. Everdean. My wife is wearing a simply tank top and sweats. Her mother hands her the tea, and as Katniss drinks it, the old healer begins to rub the oils into her skin. As the smells begin to wash over the room, I can see my wife visibly lower her shoulders. Once the mug is empty and resting on the table nearby, Mrs. Everdean begins to message the muscles with more intention, pushing a little deeper into her daughter. Katniss lets out a soothed sound after a few minutes, and even I find my muscles are loosening up, just from the smell. I drearily lay back in my cushioned chair in our living room, and my eyes begin to droop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is more of a filler chapter, but they had to talk about a lot of this stuff eventually. Also their moods needed to be reestablished after the 'investigation.' So hopefully it's forgivable. I'm not all that wild about filler chapters. 
> 
> I also finished the last chapter yesterday and have started writing the epilogue. I'm both excited and sad to see the end. Hope you all enjoy what is left of this story, so please leave a comment!


	50. Chapter 50: Chorus of Torture

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings: Mention of torture and painful memories, and acknowledgement that sex exists.

The days begin to tick by the way they did after Katniss sprained her ankle, jumping down from a tree back into the District. We pass hours agreeing on things for the nursery, as Katniss stays firmly positioned in bed. We change rooms about once a day, so that she doesn’t become too restless.  Mrs. Everdean cooks and cleans and seems to be on a mission to keep our house smelling of lavender and sandalwood. Haymitch comes and goes, sitting mostly on the couch, listlessly flipping through channels and drinking slowly from a bottle. I find spare minutes here and there to finish my painting of Katniss. Hours turn into days, which turn into weeks.

A few days after we hit the thirty-six week mark, Katniss and I are sitting in the living room. She’s wearing a lose fitting maternity top, a soft orange color, and leggings, feet clad in thick socks. Her feet are propped on the coffee table as she sips from a mug of mint tea after lunch. I’m a few feet away in the rocking chair, lazily flipping through one of the parenting books Effie sent. I pause, eyes hovering over a section labeled “Emotional Health: How a Parent’s Mental Health Influences Their Children’s” I low groan escapes my lips. Wonderful. As if being traumatized wasn’t enough of an obstacle when it came to parenting, you have to worry about how it will affect your baby’s emotional well-being.

“What?” Katniss asks, I glance up at her, and meet her eyes, which are fixed on my own from over the coffee mug.

“Can our emotional well-being affect the baby?”

“Only when she gets older,” she responds, matter of factly. “Aurelius says we can talk more about it once things have settled down.”

“You talked to Aurelius about this?” I ask, more shocked than upset. It’s not like her to bring things up with him, especially not about the baby.”

“I read that book months ago,” she says. “And I had questions. He said not to worry about it right now, and that we’ll start working on keeping her emotionally healthy once she has been delivered safely and becomes more aware. Besides, he also made the point that it will be years before she begins to pick up on our emotional challenges, and who knows what condition we’ll be in by then. We might be a lot better. There’s no use worrying about it until we know what we’re dealing with.”

“But,” I begin. However I’m cut off by a sharp knock at the door. Mrs. Everdean answers, and Delly comes bounding in.

“Hi,” she says, cheeks flushed. Katniss, twists her body to meet her eyes.

“Delly,” Katniss offers as a greeting, suspiciously. My oldest friend is twisting on the spot, holding her lips tightly together, and seemingly radiating energy. “How are you?” My wife’s tone does not sound anymore trusting.

“I have a surprise,” she practically giggles. Katniss turns back to me and raises her eyebrows. I take over.

“Is it about you Yates?” I query. “I hear you two went out the other day.”

“No it’s not about me.” She waves her hand. “This surprise is about you…Although now that you mention it, we did go out. We went out dancing, you know at one of those parties they throw about once a week in the square on Saturday night, where Ripper makes most of her alcohol sales, and…” She trails off as there’s a loud cough. I glance at my mother in law, whose covering her mouth with her hand, staring pointedly at Delly. “That’s not the surprise though,” she says recovering quickly. “I stopped at the train station this morning, and saw that you had some rather large packages waiting for you!” I stand up quickly, feeling a rush of excitement.

“Is it the things for the nursery? Effie told me she was going to ship them soon, but I never got a confirmation.”

“Better!” Delly says, “It’s outside! You have to come!”

“You didn’t carry them all by yourself did you? I ask, standing up, trying to make my way to the front door, but Delly steps to the side, blocking my path.

“Katniss needs to come too,” she says, pointedly. I look at her blankly.

“She’s on bed rest,” I say stupidly, but my wife is already struggling to her feet.

“No!” she says firmly. “I’m coming. I can be on my feet for a few minutes. And I need a break from all this sitting still. Otherwise I’m going to start climbing up the walls.” I open my mouth to protest, but she cuts me off. “Don’t argue with me. It’s just for a few minutes to take a peek at what is outside. Then I’ll be back to sitting on my butt till it’s sore.”

“You’ve always had such a way with words and eloquence,” I shot at her. A scowl is offered as my reward. I stretch out a hand, moving back around and help her to her feet. At thirty-six weeks moving is slow and heavy. She leans on me, as she gets to her feet, keeping one hand in the small of her back and stretches a little. I hear a few bones crack at taking her weight again. However he movements are deliberate and fast, as though she wants to get something over with. We open the door and are greeted by cries of joy before I can make out anything with my eyes.

“SURPRISE!” Our lawn is covered with little tables, with pink lacey table clothes, with little bears resting in the center. Pink and white balloons hang off chairs and fences. Several attendings stand around the tables, and I can smell food wafting from a larger table set off to the side. In the center of everything is a large pink chair with a footrest in front of it and a smaller table beside it, but my eyes instantly go to the people. Standing on our lawn, is Effie Trinket, practically bouncing up and down with excitement. She is beside Haymitch, who is pulling grumpily at a ridiculous looking pink bow tie. Annie is there, hands resting on the head of a blond boy with bright blue eyes, which are fixed on Katniss. Yates and all the employees from the bakery are at a table with Greasy Sae, whose eyes are watering slightly. I spot Katniss’ preps beaming out of the corner of my eyes. Plutarch stands behind them, but my gaze is automatically drawn to the severe looking woman with brown hair standing on the other side of Haymitch.

I suck in my breath as a reflex, closing my eyes, temporarily blocking out the happy scene before me. I hear the sound of rushing water, a crackle of electricity, and then a rucus that will haunt my dreams until the day I die. It’s primal, animal. If I hadn’t known it was human, I would never have attributed it to some kind of rabid beast. The screams of pain and desperate cries, would echo through the halls, and at times I would lose track of it they belonged to her, or if they were my own. Together we made the most tragic music of all, a chorus of torture. I snap my eyes open again, and make eye contact with my fellow screamer. Joanna Mason smiles sadly at me, before fixing a more befitting grin on her face, to match the occasion.

“Are you surprised?” Effie asks concerned. “I was so worried we weren’t being quiet enough while we set up this morning, and that you’d hear or look out the window! But are you surprised.”

“Oh of course they’re surprised,” Haymitch snaps, finally successfully wrestling the bow tie off. “Look at the boy’s face.”

“Katniss?” Effie asks concerned. I glance at my wife, and find some kind of painful forced expression there. The lips seem overly dramatic, while the eyes don’t quite match. Haymitch begins to laugh.

“She was always such a horrid actress. Fess up sweetheart. You knew.” Katniss face morphs back into its normal, unreadable, state, and she glares at Haymitch for a moment before looking at Effie.

“It looks wonderful,” she tells our old escort. “Thank you!”

“Yes Effie thanks,” I add quickly. She’s still frowning, but seems more placated, having been given credit for something.

“Of course. It was no trouble at all! Now come, we have to get Katniss into her bed rest throne!”

“Throne?” Katniss hisses to me, as Effie descends upon us, ushering Katniss away towards the giant pink chair and insisting she put her feet up. “It’s doctor’s orders and all. Am I right?” she demands turning to me for conformation. I let out a stuttering yes, and Katniss glares at me as she takes her seat. Delly emerges from the house behind me and grabs my arm, directing me away from the festivities as everyone gushes around Katniss.

“Anyway,” she continues as though we weren’t interrupted. “I went out with Yates.”

“Yes dancing,” I say, as we walk down the lawn. I stop us and position myself so I’m facing towards my wife and can easily make her out, if the throngs of people would move. “You told us Delly. How did it go?”

“Fine,” she says, hesitantly.

“Be more specific. What do you mean by fine? What happened that made it fine.”

“It was…fun.” She sounds a little wistful as she speaks. “He was nice, kind, very attentive, wanted me to have a good time. We had a lovely evening.” I look away from the mass of people around Katniss’ _throne_ , to make eye contact with Delly.

“Okay?”

“I’m not sure if he had fun though,” she tells me in a rush

“I’m sure he did. He’s been wanting to ask you out for ages.”

“But…on the date he seemed so…stiff.”

“I’m sure it was nerves.”

“We didn’t make plans to do anything else, and now he’s here and I don’t know what to say!” she tells me panicked.

“Delly…he’s still Yates. Say the same things you’ve been saying to him for the past five years. That’s been working for the two of you.”

“What if he doesn’t want to go out again?”

“Ask him and find out.”

“I can’t ask him!” she says, slapping my playfully on the arm. “Girls aren’t supposed to do that.” I cock an eyebrow at her.

“Girls also aren’t supposed to be able to shot bows and arrows,” I tell her. She falters at my words. “Girls should also avoid being handy with an ax, and being president. And girls especially should never ever get into screaming matches with deranged mental patients over being unfair to the people that love them.” She blushes.

“I don’t want him to feel…emasculated though.”

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard Delly. You’re one of the strongest women I’ve ever met, which means you should be your strong independent self around him too. If he can’t handle it, then you don’t want to be with him.” She rolls her eyes.

“Well of course I know that, Peeta. I just don’t want thing to be awkward.”

“How would things be awkward?”

“If he says no, we’re still going to have to be in each other’s lives because of you.” She pauses. “You know, I knew this was going to happen, which is why I wanted to say no to begin with, but you insisted. This is all your fault.”

“I’m sorry,” I cut her monologue off. “You have a good date and it’s my fault?”

“Yes!” she sound exasperated. I’m grateful when Joanna, calling across the lawn cuts her off.

“Lover Boy! Get over here, so I can make inappropriate comments to you and your wife!”

“Gotta go Delly. This sounds important.” I leave my friend standing open mouthed on the lawn looking exasperated, and make my way over to Katniss and Joanna. I grip Katniss’ hand tightly as soon as, it’s within reach. She squeezes my fingers, and I can sense her discomfort over the fuss.

“Joanna,” I offer as a greeting. She smiles and we awkwardly embrace, me using just one hand to clap her on the back. “How is District 7?” I ask, letting go of her. She waves her hands.

“Nowhere near as exciting as twelve these days. I hear reporters over run this District. Maybe I should consider relocating. I miss the rush of adrenaline. Not to mention, I might get more target practice here.”

“Oh that’d be fun,” I say with a smile. “Once Katniss is back on her feet you can go shooting together.” Katniss smiles at the mere implication of her bow and arrows. Joanna lets out a cackle.

“I don’t think she’ll be on her feet for long. I hear that in addition to being brainless, you’re not that clear on the finer points of birth control use,” she quips at Katniss. My wife blushes.

“Yeah…well,” she stammers, unable to come up with something snarky to say back, glancing nervously over Joanna’s shoulders.

“Well one things for sure, the sex must be unbelievable if it’s capable of pushing the thought of protection out of your heads,” Joanna continues oblivious to what Katniss is looking at. I follow her gaze, and my heart plummets, as I make eye contact with Mrs. Everdean. She lets out a loud sigh, making Joanna jump.

“You’ve got excellent timing Jo,” Katniss hisses. My face feels hot. The victor waves her hand, nonchalantly.

“Please Mrs. Everdean here is a healer. I’m sure she’s heard it all before, or maybe she’s even experienced it before?” Katniss gags. I make an uncomfortable face, although I wonder if there’s any truth to Joanna’s words. It would take a lot to get someone to leave the comfort of Town for the hardships of the Seam. I quickly try to shake the idea out of my body. Letting out a slight shutter. Unfortunately, when the idea left me it seems to have landed somewhere even worse.

“You have no idea Joanna,” Mrs. Everdean whispers conspiratorially. Katniss sputters, as her fellow female victor erupts with laughter.

“Shut up!” the former girl on fire, half shrieks, turning bright red. I shift my weight from one foot to the other, looking down at my shoes.

“Still so _pure_ ,” Jo giggles. “Your parents had sex brainless. It’s how you got here. Deal with it.”

“You’re another eloquent one,” I tell her, tearing my eyes away from the ground. She waves her hand, dismissively.

“We don’t all have your gift when it comes to verbal expression. I find being blunt to be effective.”

“Part of your therapy right? Saying whatever comes into your head,” I confirm, raising an eyebrow.

“Exactly,” she answers. A call comes across the yard. Effie needs Mrs. Everdean’s help with bring gifts up, and the crowd around us has cleared slightly, as people go to get food. “Seriously,” Joanna continues, glancing around us to make sure we have some privacy. “This was an accident right? If it were planned, I liked to think you had enough intelligence to have a game plan for your mental health that didn’t involve Aureluis’ precious facility.”

“It was a _surprise_ ,” I tell her, stressing the last word. Katniss remains quiet.

“I bet that one was actually a surprise, unlike this party,” the ax wielding maniac asks Katniss.

“I was surprised by this party,” I tell them both, quickly. The two girls look at me pityingly, and my wife even pats me sympathetically on the arm, before turning back to her friend.

“Yes, that was actually a surprise.”

“Does it feel like a good one yet?”

“We’re getting there,” Katniss answer honestly. “This party though…I don’t think it will ever feel like a good surprise.”

“Yes, well,” I cut in, “I think it’s one of those things that’s more for Effie than the rest of us.”

***

The rest of the party passes with little incidents. Katniss talks to everyone briefly, very polite, and she eats a few bowls of the lamb stew, Effie made sure they included in the catering. Annie apologizes when Finn rudely places his hands on Katniss’ bump, but my wife does not seem bothered. She even watches him intently, looking for changes in his facial expression, as she guides his hands to spots where Willow’s kicking. He looks overjoyed, upon feeling any movement, and for the rest of the party, Annie is hard pressed to get him to leave Katniss’ side. We open presents. Effie must have circulated a list, because everyone has bought us things that we selected from the catalogues. The only non-catalogue gift we get is from Sae, who presents us with a homemade baby blanket. She must have knitted it from scratch. Katniss keeps it draped over her lap, after opening it, marveling at the softness.

 Yates hangs around afterwards, and helps me move the heavier gifts up to the spare bedroom. Mrs. Everdean has busied herself moving our clothes and other essentials back to the master bedroom, which Katniss has reluctantly agreed to sleep in tonight. Effie, has fixed up one of the spare houses for everyone to stay in before they take the morning train out. Finn, is still glued to Katniss’ stomach, asking his mother excitedly if they can come visit again once she’s out and if he’ll be able to play with her. Joanna, Plutarch, and Haymitch are getting drunk, and Plutarch is loudly attesting to the brilliance of the investigation. As I walked into the house last, I heard both the victors make snarky comments about the ethics of the whole thing. Raised voices are now drifting into the house from the open front door. Yates and I run into Delly as we carry the boxed crib up. She’s helping Mrs. Everdean. She blushes and hurries out of the room, carrying a pile of clothing. Yates casts his eyes down to the ground.

“What is going on?” I ask him. “She’s been firing questions at me, asking me analyze the date all day. Did it not go well?”

“I don’t think so,” he answers honestly. “I was so nervous Peeta, obsessing about if she was having a good time. I couldn’t relax.”

“Oh come on Yates,” I sigh exasperated. “It doesn’t have to be so complicated. You’ve talked to her a million times.”

“Yes, but that’s when she’s just Delly.”

“She’s still Delly when you’re out on a date. Ask her on another one,” I advice him.

“Oh no, I can’t do that. She had a horrible time.”

“If she did, it was because she was feeling paranoid about how you were acting. Take her out again, for me.”

“Why for you?”

“Because then she’ll stop demanding I parse little things with her,” I tell her honestly. “If you want to be with her, you go out with her, relaxed and act like yourself. I’m pretty sure she likes you, but you’ve got her all worked up.” He smiles sadly.

“So just…be myself.”

“Yes,” I tell him exasperated. He rolls his eyes.

“I’m starting to think that your way was better. It was more of a sure thing.”

“My way? That was not a sure thing. She didn’t choose to be with me till after the cameras left, so if we’re being honest that move didn’t even work.” He chuckles. “Trust me. You’re way safer making her dinner or going on a walk or something.” He laughs, and I smile, glancing around the room, that will be my daughter’s own space.

“You’ve got some work ahead of you, if you’re going to turn this into something for a baby.”

“Well then we both have our missions. You’re going to go on a date with Delly and act normal. I’ve got some painting to do.”

“Now those sound like some healthy plans,” a voice cuts in. We turn and see Katniss standing heavily in the doorframe. She glances around and a smile creeps over her face as she takes in the sight of all the new boxes. I’m so glad to see her smiling; I don’t even have it in me to scold her for being out of bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So while writing this chapter I discovered it's super fun to write Joanna. She's amazingly inappropriate and it's excellent. This was one of the more amusing chapters to write, and I'm glad I finally get to share it with all of you. Of course it still had its sad undertones, because this is the Hunger Games. You never get complete joy. As always thanks for reading, and please leave a comment!


	51. Chapter 51: Beaming Baby Grin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: Minor injuries, lack of sleep, and minor expletives

It’s the middle of the night and I can’t sleep. I’ve been up and down for the past week and a half since the party. My sleeping pattern has become irregular, which I know has Katniss on edge. I can feel her shifting beside me when I get out of bed in the middle of the night, and more than once I’ve had to return to our room after hearing her screaming, awakening from nightmares and jolted by not finding me resting next to her. We’ve both begun to nap more during the day to make up for it, but I can feel that I’m not resting as much as her. I’m rushing; trying to finish everything in time and make sure we’re prepared.

In the days immediately following the party I had to take apart the spare bedroom, removing all the furniture and setting it up to paint. I wound up going with a deep green color for the walls, which would both compliment the dark wood furniture we were gifted and help sooth Katniss. Next I had to build all the furniture in the boxes, which included a crib, changing table, and dresser. Interpreting the instructions with its confusing pieces was a struggle. Haymitch sat in the rocking chair we did have, the one Mrs. Everdeen brought to the Seam when she married. He drank deeply from a bottle the whole time, not helping but still feeling comfortable enough to tell me I was doing it wrong, even when I wasn’t. Slowly as the days ticked by I started feeling restless at night, and instead of lying awake for hours, I would get up and begin working on the nursery. I’ve noticed Katniss watching me carefully. Lack of sleep normally makes me snap, but the adrenaline running through my body at the prospect of soon being able to hold my daughter has me up and moving, without feeling the presence of the mutt who lives in my head.

Tonight Katniss hits the thirty-eight week mark, and the nursery is practically finished. I move all the furniture into the proper positions, place bottles, soothing music machines, stuffed animals and books in a neat order around the room. I tip toe to the door and stand admiring my handy work, feeling that I am forgetting something, when it clicks. Kicking myself for nearly forgetting, I rush out of the room. I pause only when I make an unusually loud thunks with my prosthetics, as I pass the master bedroom. I freeze, listening for sounds of movement within. Not hearing anything, I continue down the stairs to my studio. Opening the door, carefully so as not to wake Mrs. Everdeen. I see it in the center, covered by a sheet. I walk over to it and give the sheet a gentle tug. It slips away and in the faint light from the moon I can just make out the painting. Katniss dark hair tied back into its classic braid, her grey eyes fixed on the baby in her arms wrapped in a multicolored blanket. Not knowing what our child would look like, I settled on painting her as I wished she would look. She had her mother’s dark hair and my curls. Her lips are stretched wide, into what I can only describe as a beaming baby grin. One of her hands is outstretched to Katniss’. The two of them are joined at the fingers. Willow grasps one of her mother’s fingers in her own tiny little fist. I painted Katniss with one of her slight smiles and she almost seems to radiate joy.

I grab the painting off its stand. It’s been done and dry for days now, but I wanted it to be the last touch. Careful not to make too much noise, I walk back up the nursery, pausing again at our bedroom door. I lean into it a little, and still hear no noise from inside. Letting out a sigh of relief, I push on down the hall back to Willow’s room. The door creaks a little as it opens, and I cast my eyes about the dark room, focusing on the walls, and pick out the wall space above the crib as its resting place. I grab one of the hammers and nails from the changing table, where I left them, and prop the painting up against the wall, in order to free a hand a reach for the stepladder. I place it next to the crib, climb up and position the nail in order to give it a good whack into the appropriate spot, when she speaks.

“I really thought that someone who was in not one but two arenas would be more observant.” I jump at the sound of her voice, causing me to nearly topple over, but in the process of regaining my balance I drop the hammer. I comes down on my foot. Out of pure instinct, I lift my leg up to grab my foot, which causes me to fall over backwards anyway. “No!” She’s on her feet in an instant moving towards me quickly. “Peeta!” Her screams of concern echo around in my head and nearly pull me back to dark memories, but she’s quickly by my side and as she leans over me, trying to get my shoe off to look at my foot, her baby bump, now massive, brushes against me, grounding me in the present.

“I’m fine,” I gasp, air knocked out of me from the fall. “Really it’s okay.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she snaps. “You might have a broken foot.” She finally wrestled off the shoe and is working on the sock. As she speaks she manages to pull the fabric aside and lets out a little gasp. I start to giggle. I see her lips twitch, in the light of the moon.

“You’re right, if I still had a foot there it might be broken,” I tell her honestly. She snorts, involuntarily, and claps a hand to her mouth, to hide her smile. I tilt my head back and start to laugh. “You scared me,” I confess to her, chest heaving. She slaps me playfully on the arm.

“I scared _you_? I’m not the one up all hours of the night, doing odds only know what.”

“Not odds only know what,” I correct her, voice rising. “I didn’t want to show you till it was finished.” I tell her gesturing around the room. She’s feeling along my fake foot, not listening. I can see the motion, but I can’t feel her touch there.

“I think the hammer dented it,” she says carefully. “I’m going to hit the lights.”

“No!” I tell her, as she ignores me and gets up. “It’s not done yet! I don’t want you to see it till it’s done.” She flicks the light switch over my protests, bringing the light overhead to life. I hear her suck in her breath as she takes in the room. The dark green, contrasting with the furniture, gives it the same color scheme as her woods. I’ve even been dropping little bits of the sage essential oil her mother brought to make the place smell herby. I glance casually at the painting. It’s propped so the back of it faces us.

“Peeta…” she whispers. I smile at her, and sit up to look at my foot. She was right. There’s a dent the size of the top of a hammer in the metal. I let out an annoyed clicking sound. I feel Katniss’ hand on my shoulder, and twist slightly to look at her. Her eyes are still wide, taking in the room. “I love it she,” whispers. My smile gets wider, and I lean in and kiss her. We press our foreheads together, and I reach out and touch her belly with the tips of my fingers before softly splaying them out so my whole hand rests on the bump. Willow responds with a soft kick. “She likes her room,” Katniss whispers. I tilt my head up and press my lips into her forehead. Her hand wraps around my shoulders. We stay like this for a few minutes, till the problem finally occurs to me.

“Katniss?”

“Hmm,” she answers me sleepily.

“You aren’t supposed to be out of bed.” She sits, up, disengaging our cuddling, and making an annoyed noise in the back of her throat.

“I’m sick of lying around. You’ve been up and down and restless the past few days and I haven’t been able to help. It’s making me feel jumpy and frustrated.” I push a strand of her hair aside.

“Knowing that you’re taking care of our daughter sooths me. And I haven’t been on the verge of an attack. I’ve been working on this,” I tell her kindly, waving my arms softly around the room. “I wanted to surprise you.”

“I could have helped. You shouldn’t have to do things on your own.”

“No,” I say more firmly this time. “It’s my job to take care of you and it’s your job to take care of Willow.”

“She’s getting restless too,” Katniss snaps, stretching a little bit.

“Has she been kicking more?”

“No,” she answers. “She’s been quiet. I can just tell. Bed rest bores her.”

“Then she takes after you.”

“Then the odds had better finally be in our favor then,” she quips with a smile. Her eyes dart away and for an instant I’m afraid she’s spotted the painting. My heart skips a beat. However her smile is quickly replaced with a frown. She moves away from me and stretches a hand down towards my fake foot, taking it in her hand and moving her thumb over the dent.

“You can’t walk on that,” she says matter-of-factly.

“I know,” I grumble. “And this was my favorite prosthetic. I’ll have to send it in, and it’ll take them ages to fix.”

“Where’s the spare?”

“In our closet,” I tell her but grab her arm so she can’t move. “You’re not supposed to be up though. You remember what Clora said?”

“What do you want me to do Peeta, leave you on the floor till my mother wakes up and can get you your spare leg? I survived two arenas and a war. I can walk down the hall and back,” she snaps, pulling her arm out of my grasp. A sense of dread over comes me as I watch her try to get to her feet. She reaches up to grip the dresser to help brace her, and as she straightens up, I hear her gasp in pain a little.

“Katniss,” I say warningly. She waves her hand at me to silence me, face contorted in pain a little. After a few seconds she seems to relax.

“It’s fine,” she says, voice calm. “I’m just going to get your spare and we’ll go to bed together and then I promise I won’t get up till she’s ready to come into the world.” I suck in my breath, keeping my eyes fixed on her for as long as possible. She moves back towards our room. Once I can’t see her anymore, I lay back on the floor, straining my ears to hear her. I don’t hear her soft foot falls, but I do catch the sound of the opening bedroom door and the occasional thunk of things moving around in the closet, which helps me track her progress. I close my eyes, listening. The sound pauses suddenly.

“Shit!” I hear her snap.

            “Katniss!” I call in panic. “What is it?” She doesn’t answer. The closet door shuts with a snap, and then there’s nothing for a few seconds which seem to last an eternity. I twist my body around to bring the door back into my vision. I count heartbeats till she appears. She has my spare leg clutched in one fist, and is gripping the doorframe with the other. She tosses me the leg, and as I catch it I notice her bottom half is drenched.

            “Put that on quickly,” she barks, voice somehow shaking at the same time. “My water just broke.”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I missed last week's update. I had a massive project due, and wound up having to sleep all day after turning it in. That seemed the healthiest way to celebrate. 
> 
> We can also celebrate that Katniss finally went into labor! It had taken so long to get to this moment, and I'm really excited that we're finally here! Took forever, but it feels amazing to finally post this chapter. 
> 
> Someone also expressed concern about a conversation in last chapter, so I would like to clarify something. Babies are actually very perceptive, and can be affected by their relationship with their parents at any age. The people of Panem though don't know that really, because they don't prioritize mental health and haven't done as many studies as psychologists have. In fact Panem has a tendency to induce trauma, so they aren't the type of people to work on recovering from it. That's good for us though, because that means if you or anyone you love is struggling with mental health problems and is having a baby, there are resources available to them.


	52. Chapter 52: All the Forward

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings: Acknowledge of trauma and difficulty moving on, fear of motherhood

If I thought I was experiencing an adrenaline rush before, I was wrong. I can feel my heart pounding, and suddenly everything feels very warm, especially around my neck. I’m snapping my broken prosthetic out and replacing it with the one Katniss brought, fingers fumbling. I can hear her breathing raggedly behind me. The second I hear the satisfying click, that means my fake leg is connected, I’m on my feet, rushing towards my wife. I catch her by her upper arms, making eye contact with her. She grips my elbows, knuckles turning white, taking deep shaking breaths. I feel the grin spread across my face, and without thinking lean forward, catching her lips against my own. She presses back momentarily, and seems speechless as I pull back.

            “Get my mother and get Haymitch,” she whispers, breathing heavily. Everything starts moving very quickly, in some kind of blur around me. It takes only one good yell to wake up Mrs. Everdeen and a few seconds to phone Haymitch. The next thing I know my mother in law is running ahead to the hospital to get the needed doctors while Haymitch and I support Katniss between us. She’s clutching my hand tightly, so tightly I lose feeling in my fingers. It brings me back to the first night I was cognizant of the pregnancy. It’s the same. Haymitch and I getting Katniss to the hospital, on foot, wondering how we got here and scared for what will come next. She squeezes my hand harder. Although I already feel like I can make my grip no harder, I do my best to squeeze back. As we finally reach the hospital doors, they slide open before us. Birk looks up from his paper work, Clora standing beside him. Mrs. Everdeen isn’t far off. She looks breathless from running. The doctors themselves seem haggard, with circles under their eyes.

            “You walked!” Clora gasps upon seeing us. Katniss is shaking between Haymitch and myself.

            “What the hell else were we supposed to do?” Haymitch snaps back. “There are no cars in this whole odds forsaken district!” Mercifully, Clora ignores him.

            “Get a gurney,” the obstetrician yells. “She’s bleeding.” I glance down and see she’s right. Blood is beginning to stain the nightgown Katniss is wearing. “We’re going to need to do an emergency C-section,” Clora says, not looking at Katniss or I as the gurney wheels up. Her eyes are focused on Birk.

            “No,” Katniss hisses, clinging to my hand, teeth gritted. Birk moves forward helping Haymitch and myself get her on the gurney. “She’s not ready. We’re not ready…I’m not ready! Aurelius said-” Clora cuts her off.

“Katniss this isn’t a discussion. She’s coming. Now. Babies don’t care what your therapists say. She’s decided you’re going to be a mother _tonight_ , so you’re going to be a mother tonight.” My heart constricts. Katniss teeth are gritted firmly so she doesn’t answer. Clora lets out a huff, looking up at me. “She’s having another contraction. If we let this go for too long her placenta will tear and she’ll bleed out. We’re doing this now!” I nod, dumbfounded, with nothing else to do or say. Clora begins to push the gurney, with the help of the orderly who brought it up. I follow. Birk takes it from the other side. Haymitch and Mrs. Everdeen stay behind.

“Alright, Katniss,” Clora says, talking calmly. “I know we discussed you being awake throughout, but this is an emergency situation. It’s going to be a little different.” Katniss doesn’t answer, but intakes a sharp breath. Her eyes are open though. I don’t think she’s having another contraction. “We’re going to have to put you under anesthesia. You won’t feel anything, and you’ll wake up in a few hours, with a wonderful baby waiting for you.” Katniss reaches her hand out towards me. I grab it. She’s taking deep shaky breathes and her eyes are wide.

“It’ll be okay,” I tell her.

“I know,” she whispers back. “You need to listen to me though.” I squeeze her fingers. “Stay with _her_.” I nod, mouth opening slightly. “Say it.”

“Always.” Katniss seems to let out a breath, her muscles relaxing. Birk cuts in.

“She’ll be here in fifteen minutes. It won’t be long.” My heart is pounding in my chest. We reach two doors and Clora stops the gurney, just short of the foot of Katniss’ bed pushing through them.

“This is as far as you go,” she informs me clinically. I look back at my wife. There’s nothing else to say. I bend down and I kiss her tenderly.

“Love you,” I whisper against her lips. She smiles, but doesn’t answer. Her eyes are squeezed shut, and her breath is coming out unevenly.

“Don’t be afraid Katniss,” Birks says comfortingly. “You’ll wake up in a few hours and the first thing you’ll see is Peeta. This time he’ll have a baby with him though.”

“We don’t have time,” Clora snaps. “She’s contracting.” The woman pushes the gurney forward. I remain in place, and Katniss fingers slip from my grasp as she moves into an operating room. Birk hesitates before following them into the door.

“I’ll be out soon to update you,” he tells me, before pushing through the door.  I stand dumbstruck, watching as the doors swing back and forth. I can’t make out anything going on beyond them though. Birks words have brought me back to a different era, in this same hospital, nearly nine months ago. On that day I never believed this would happen. Katniss was always so set against this prior to getting pregnant that I never thought about what a baby would really mean. Even yesterday, the pregnancy felt more like a novelty, an idea or a concept, not a reality. But in less than twenty minutes, I’ll be holding her, Willow. The rushing feeling coursing through my body, could either be nerves or excitement. I can’t tell. It might very well be both. I stay rooted to the spot outside the operating rooms, counting my heartbeats, as if that will make time go faster.

Over the course of the last nine months, I’ve been imagining perfection. That’s likely not what I’m going to get. This isn’t how life works or recovery works. You go up and then you go down. Sometimes you take five steps forward and four steps back. Some days it’s all forward or all back. In the end it all balances out to moving forward in very slow motion. This will take time. Anything that is worthwhile takes time. Having a baby is forward motion, but the forward motion will not end with Willow, because tomorrow will come. She will not fix everything. She might not fix anything, but she will give us joy and remind of us what we have already done and accomplished in our recovery. We’ll need to find a way to fold her into all the forward we still have left to move towards. My heartbeat slows. This is not the end of our recovery. This is just a new chapter. The moments tick by. I don’t move back towards the waiting room, to be with Haymitch and my mother in law. I stay, staring at the doors. An image of Katniss after the games flashes briefly through my head. Her hair is wild, feral. She screaming and pushing herself against the glass. I’m on the other side, passed out, and having my leg amputated. I shake my head to rid it of the image.

***

The door finally opens and Birk walks through. My muscles and joints ache from standing so still for so long. I don’t even register that he’s standing before me at first. I’m in such a daze. He smiles though, as my eyes slide in and out of focus, looking for his face.

“Nine pounds,” he says triumphantly. “On the nose.” I don’t answer just keep staring at him. “She’s early though, so Clora wants us to send her to the NICU for monitoring overnight, but she’s perfectly healthy. Crying her eyes out and everything. Clora is stitching Katniss up as we speak.” I stare at him for a moment.

“Willow?” I ask. Birk just smiles as the doors open again and a woman comes out, pushing a small cart in front of her. It’s the same woman who first brought the sonogram machine into Katniss room. She’s more careful with her equipment now, and I hear the smallest large cry I’ve ever heard. It’s the kind of loud cry that can only come from little lungs, taking their first few breaths. I move forward, like I’m on autopilot, looking down. Clora’s assistant slows upon seeing me.

She has red skin and looks tiny, considering how big Katniss’ bump was. Her eyes are closed but her legs are flailing up in the air, as she kicks desperately. They’ve got her half wrapped in a pink blanket. Her tiny fists are moving wildly about and around her body. It’s like she’s fighting the air and rejecting the sudden cold of the world around her. I’m sure Katniss’ womb felt much warmer and safer than District Twelve’s hospital. My eyes move to her face. It’s chubby with Katniss’ olive skin and thin lips. The hair on her head is dark.

“Watch yourself,” the woman breathes. I glance up at her. We’ve been moving this whole time and I haven’t noticed. She’s paused now though, because we’re outside another door that I’m about to run into. I step aside, and she pushes through. I follow closely behind her. “Let me just take her vitals and do a few tests and you can hold her,” she tells me, pulling out a stethoscope. “Good news is, she has a healthy pair of lungs.” I smile, but don’t completely look at her. My perfect daughter has absorbed all my available attention.  It only takes a few minutes to test her. The assistant declares her to be in perfect condition, and instructs me to sit in a rocking chair off to the side. I haven’t even noticed the finer details or the room we are in, until she directs me to the chair. We’re in a small room. There’s a little window on one of the walls, and a few other parents standing over babies in charts similar to the one mine is in. Others are covered completely by plastic, like they’re in little homes. All the people in the room are staring down at their babies, some sadly, some with pure joy. A couple families glance at me, one man stares, but no else seems to notice who I am. In this moment I’m beyond even caring about the man staring. I sit and the woman picks up my daughter, wrapping her more fully and then transferring her to my arms.

“There you are,” she coos to the baby. “There’s Daddy.” She weighs practically nothing. Nine pounds is what Birk said. That’s less than a tenth of a bag of flour. She’s less than a tenth of a bag of flour, and she looks even smaller in my arms, arms that are accustomed to throwing things around that are more than ten times her weight. How can anything so amazing be so small? I make shushing noise. Her crying has begun to let up.

“Hi Willow,” I whisper. “Hello.” She stops crying and lets out a little gurgle. “I’m Dad,” I tell her softly. “And you are Willow Mellark. You live in District twelve, with me and mom. Mom isn’t here right now, but you know her. She’s the one who kept you all safe and warm up till now.” She lets out another gurgles and stretches a little in my arms. Her eyelids just barely flutter. “That’s right. And you have a grandma, who might not be around much. She and mom don’t get along really, but that’s okay. They’re working on it. And you have a…a Haymitch. He…has geese. You can chase them when you get older, assuming Mom doesn’t shoot them between now and then. You also have an Effie. She’ll buy you lots of clothes, but she won’t let you chase the geese in them. It’s okay if you do though.” Her eyes flutter again. I hold my breath as she slowly pries them open.

“Look who learned to open her eyes!” the assistant gushes. I forgot she was even here. I just stare down at my daughter. I was expecting Katniss’ grey eyes to be behind those lids, and as she open them, I almost braced myself for a glare. Instead it’s like I’m looking in a mirror. My own blue irises stare up at me, wide and wondering, taking in the world for the first time. “She got that down quick,” the woman comments.

“She has her mother’s brain,” I answer. A smile spreads wide across my face. I hear a soft tapping and look up. At the window I see my mother in law waving at me wildly. Haymitch is standing behind her. His own grey eyes are focused on the bundle in my arms. They seem to be glistening, but I don’t look too closely, out of respect. I beam at both of them.

***

They say Katniss did very well. She’s out of surgery and should be awake within the next hour or so. Mrs. Everdeen and Haymitch are sitting with Willow. I had to let her go at some point. I’m at the nurses’ station staring at a phone. Haymitch already called Effie and Plutarch. I’m sure it’ll be on the news tonight, which just leaves me one more phone call. I take one last deep breath in, pick up the phone and dial. Pressing it to my ear, I count the rings _…one…two…three…four…five._

“Peacekeeper’s office, district two,” a different male voice answers.

“Peeta Mellark, calling for Gale Hawthorne.” There’s a pause. I take a deep breath. “Can I also trust that you won’t go back and listen to the recording for ‘customer services’ purposes?”

“I won’t,” the voice, answers. He pauses again though. “If I promise not to tell the media, will you answer one question though?”

“What?” I ask agitated.

“Did she have the baby?” A smile spreads across my face.

“Yes,” I answer. I’m sure he can practically hear my grin.

“Congratulations,” the voice answers. I can hear his grin as well. Then there’s another ringing noise.

“Peeta?” Gale answers.

“Yeah,” I say heart sinking back down.

“Did something go wrong?”

“No…she’s here. And you asked me to call. You said it’d be easier to hear it from me than it would be from the press.” He doesn’t answer for a moment.

“Who’s here?”

“Willow…nine pounds on the dot. She’s got dark hair and blues eyes and her mother’s will. I can tell already.”

“Then…you’ll need the odds to be in your favor.” His voice is hollow. “Congratulations.”

“Thanks,” I whisper. “Gale?”

“Yes?”

“I hope someday you get to feel that way again. I hope someday you find someone who helps you move on and let go. We lost too much to linger.” He doesn’t answer. I change the subject. “New receptionist?”

“Yes…he’s not as good as Berald was…keeps dropping calls.”

“Well…it could be worse. Caesar Flickerman could have taken the job.”

“He does have that phone obsession,” Gale chuckles. “God that dreamy look he got on his face, while talking about a receptionist’s responsibilities. I thought he was just going to drift away with joy.”

“It was contained excitement at the idea of being able to deliver the people of Panem with such drama.” Gale makes an affirmative noise. No one speaks for a moment.

“Make sure to take her out into the woods as soon as you can. That way she’ll never be afraid of it.”

“I’m sure we will,” I answer. He sucks in his breath.

“Bye Peeta.” And with a click, he’s gone.

***

Katniss’ room is soft. It has a light yellow wall paper with a matching hospital bedspread. There are a few pictures of teddy bears on the wall, with yellow ribbons. She’s lying in the bed, breathing on her own. Although according to Clora her breathes are shallow, which means she should be waking up soon. They said she did beautifully in surgery. I knew that already though. If our daughter is any indication, she’s been doing an amazing job in more than just surgery. Haymitch and Mrs. Everdeen finally let me take Willow back. I’m sitting on a comfy chair in the corner, looking down at my daughter. She’s awake, blue eyes staring back at me, with what I can best describe as quizzical interest. She’s so full of expressions, and I think the joy from watching her face shift into each one might consume me. I’m in such a trance watching her; I don’t notice the first cough. The second one though is louder and jolts me out of my reverie. I get up slowly and make my way over to Katniss. So I’m sitting on the foot of her bed. She coughs again, eyes still closed but fluttering behind her lids. She slowly pries them open, blinking a couple times.

“Peeta?” She sounds hoarse.

“Hi,” I whisper. “How are you feeling?”

“Sore,” she answers.

“How sore?” She waves her hands, eyes still unfocused, pulling herself up a little.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ve had worse.” With one last large blink, her vision seems to come back to her. We make eye contact. She smiles widely, reaching out a hand to me. I grab it.

“Are you up for meeting someone?” She presses her lips together. I stand up swinging my body around so that we’re facing the same direction.

“Katniss Everdeen, this is Willow, that little person whose been living in you for the past nine months,” I breathe softly. There’s a quiet choking noise. I look at her face and her eyes are welling up. She extends her hands, and very slowly, I transfer Willow’s body to her. Once the weight is fully out of my hands, I step back to drink it in, Katniss holding our daughter. If I thought that Willow’s facial expression brought me joy, I did not yet know what joy was. My wife’s grey eyes fill with tears as she extends a finger to our daughter, putting it lightly in Willow’s fist. Her little fingers close around Katniss’ larger one. She presses her lips together again and takes in a deep shaking breath.

“Willow Mellark,” she whispers. “Welcome to the world,” she pauses again, and closes her eyes. “Prim, Rue, Finnick, the Mellarks, and my father…we gave a lot to get here…so that your life can be _great_.” She chokes on the last word. I lean down burying my face in her hair to inhale, before lightly kissing her temple.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I wish I had updated last week, that way I would be posting the final, FINAL, chapter today. It would be fitting considering that today is my last day as an undergraduate. This is one of those times life can't be as poetic as we'd like it. The baby is here though and that's something. I've been building to this moment for over a year and now that it's here, I feel a sense of relief. I can finally stop torturing Katniss and Peeta, at least for now. Thank you so much to everyone for reading! And don't be too sad. There is still the epilogue, which I will write this week and post on Monday. I'm so sad to see so many things ending, but looking forward to new things beginning.


	53. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings: Annoying media and me being sad it's over.

I wake up a few weeks later in our bed, stretching out a hand for Katniss. She’s not there. Her covers are thrown back and her side of the bed is cold. I must have been sleeping so deeply from the exhaustion that comes with being the parent of a newborn, that I didn’t even feel her getting up. That’s been happening more often. She has a sense and can have Willow in her arms seconds before she starts getting fussy. Often in the nights, she gets up, insisting Willow is going to cry, making it to the nursery right as her screams begin. Sometimes she makes it there before the baby even starts to cry, leaving me sleeping and oblivious, behind in bed. Tonight seems to be another one of those nights.

I wish she’d let me get the baby more often. Since her mother left a few days ago, things have been piling up around the house, and I’m worried the lack of sleep will affect her mental health. It’s what Aurelius keeps railing on about. Sleep is key in home treatment of anxiety. I let out a deep sigh, flinging the covers off. I’ll go find her and convince her to go back to bed. I’ll take the baby. My feet touch the floor, and I shiver in the cold, making my way towards the hallway, passing the pile of pillows Delly fashioned out of the giant stuffed bear Cesar sent. I keep meaning to drop them around people’s homes as thank you gifts. It would also give me the chance to check in on Yates. Delly dropped by yesterday, with the pillows, she was all giggles after Katniss asked how things went with Yates. I concluded their second date went much better, but I’d like to hear it from him.

It’s remarkable how much things have changed in the few weeks since we brought Willow home. After the initial influx of reporters, Thom and his fellow peacekeepers had to call for reinforcements from Paylor. Things have calmed down though, and more than three quarter of the media has moved on to newer gossip. Mrs. Everdean was able to safely leave the district, once the reporters were forced to vacate. She departed reluctantly, cooing at her granddaughter, giving Katniss a boney hug, and having me repeatedly assure her that we were ready to be on our own. I suspect she’s been talking to Effie though, since our old escort called the following day to tell us she’s booked herself a long vacation in District 12 next month to, “see the sights and of course check in.”

Haymitch has been coming over more often as well. He doesn’t like to hold Willow. He’ll just sit in the living room, gazing at her curiously, softly, as either Katniss or I hold her in our arms. One day though I came home from the bakery and found all three of them asleep. Katniss was sleeping in our room, door open. Upon crossing into the nursery, which she also left open, I discovered Willow asleep in her crib, and Haymitch dozing peacefully beside her in the rocking chair. He looked younger, peaceful. I smile at the memory, and gently push that same door open now.

Katniss is on the other side, in the rocking chair Haymitch slept in a week ago, the rocking chair her mother brought from the Seam, a chair her father probably sang her to sleep in. I inhale softly, and she looks up, hair falling down her shoulders, our bundled newborn resting soundly in her mother’s arms. A rare smile crosses Katniss’ face, and I step into the room. I kneel beside her, pressing my lips into her temple, and stretching a hand out to cradle her face gently. I press my forehead against her shoulder, eyes downcast to Willow. Her blue eyes look up at us sleepily.

“Are you happy?” I whisper. Katniss lets out a slow quiet sigh.

“Right now, in this moment, yes. Tomorrow, who knows, but tonight… tonight, I am so happy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started writing this almost a year and a half ago. I started it when I was halfway through, what I would have to call the most stressful and emotional year of my life, thus far. I was overwhelmed and overworked, and this story was my outlet. A lot of what Katniss did and said in early chapters, was a product of my brain wanting to scream in frustration. A lot of what Peeta did and said in the early chapters, was what I wished people would say or do for me. His character was my dream support system. Writing this story helped me get a lot of my emotions out and kept me sane through that period. I'm touched that so many people have found it to be worth investing so much time to read. Thank you to all of you for the encouragement and the comments and for the views. The fact that the hit count on this story is close to 25,000 right now blows my mind! 
> 
> Currently I'm trying to get back to writing my own original work, but that being said this story has given me a lot of hope over the past year, if for no other reason than the words "You're Going to Be So Happy" have been popping up in my recent documents in Word for ages now. Who doesn't love reading that? While a sequel might not be forthcoming, I hope to find the time and drive to write one, eventually. I honestly don't know though if it will happen. I'm flattered that people seem to want a sequel and like my writing. Your support lifts me up and inspires me. Keep reading what brings you joy and makes you feel like a part of a community! You all deserve it!


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